


spilled coffee

by blondeslytherin



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Break Up, Drinking, Eventual Smut, Explicit Language, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Fluff, Friends to Enemies to Lovers, Gay Keith (Voltron), Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Keith refuses to acknowledge things, Lance is a hairstylist, M/M, Miscommunication, Mutual Pining, Past Relationship(s), Past Sexual Assault, Slow Burn, Snowed In, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, but only after a lot of angst, it's very small and only a threat, references to something that happened in the past
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-12
Updated: 2018-07-12
Packaged: 2019-06-09 03:44:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 35,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15258690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blondeslytherin/pseuds/blondeslytherin
Summary: Keith and Lance haven't seen each other since high school. When they meet again in a coffee shop three years later, neither thinks that the other remembers them. As life continues throw the pair back together, and as they slowly grow closer, can they forget the mistakes of their past, or will it come back to haunt them?~~~The bell chimed as the door was hurriedly pushed open and Lance disappeared from view.A breath that Keith didn’t know he was holding slowly got released, and several minutes passed before Keith could tear his gaze away from the glass door with the bell.No, even the best of fortunetellers couldn’t have predicted this.





	spilled coffee

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! It's been ages since I've uploaded anything that I've actually been proud of (read: put actual effort into), so tada! The tags make it seem like a lot, sorry about that. There is some smut in here, so if that isn't your thing, just skip over the *** part. That's the only instance, and won't impact your understanding of the story.  
> Anyways, thank you so much to the wonderful 'Softe_Gays' (you should absolutely check out their work btw) for the beta reading.  
> Enjoy! As always, comments and kudos are loved and appreciated <3

He should have seen it coming. Based on how the rest of his day had gone, Keith really should have seen the entire cup of hot coffee being knocked into his lap by a careless stranger. Of course, everything would go wrong today.

It really was no surprise to now find his steaming hot, dark chocolate mocha now staining his jeans, soaking into the fabric and earning him first degree—no, borderline second degree—burns on his thighs. For fucks sake, with how well he’d been able to predict his day, all he needed was a job as a fortune teller on some run-down boardwalk on a desolate beach and he’d be set in life.

He honestly should have seen it all coming. And as that stranger turned around with a curse on their lips, Keith had no idea what was in store for him now. Little did he know that cup of coffee to the lap would change his whole life.

~~~

Lance was having a bad day, to put it mildly. Hunk had bailed on him this morning (something about an emergency, Lance could respect that), two of his favorite clients got in a row when their appointments had gotten mixed up and now Lance was out two high paying clients, and finally, to top it _all off,_ they were out of his favorite coffee.

He was swearing low under his breath, and truly, Lance should have been more careful. He had been clumsy as a child and the lanky limbs had never really gone away as he grew up; he should have known by now. But of course, nothing was going his way that day.

How the _fuck_ did a coffee shop manage to run out of vanilla? It’s one of the most basic ingredients there is! It’s practically a staple, for heaven’s sake. But no, today of all days, _Altea Café_ was out of vanilla.

Could he really be blamed, in this situation? It wasn’t his fault that the tables were packed so closely together, that someone happened to be sitting right behind him when he backed up. Lance could be deadly without coffee in his system.

And when his elbow managed to clip that cup of coffee just right so that it went spilling down into the stranger’s lap, Lance had been ready to curse him out then and there for sitting so close.

But then he looked into those violet eyes, flashing with fury and incoherent words flying from that pretty mouth, and Lance would do it all over again just so that he could live in that moment forever.

~~~

“What the fuck, man?” Keith was springing up from his chair, wanting desperately to strip out of his liquid-soaked jeans as they rapidly cooled and began to get clammy, but knowing that he had no choice but to stay in them. “Are you really that careless?”

Spluttered words in a language that Keith couldn’t understand (Spanish?) were all he got in response. No napkins, no apologies, nothing. Go fucking figure he wouldn’t be able to understand a word the stranger said.

Some other sympathetic soul was handing him napkins, and Keith dabbed uselessly at his stained and wet jeans. It was no use; he’d be stuck in this pair until he managed to swing a break and go home in about…oh, five or so hours. There was no time for him to go home before his meeting with his agent.

Jesus fucking Christ. Keith was going to swear out all the stars above until someone heard him and finally answered his prayer to just end it all.

“I’m so sorry, man, let me help.”

Keith paused, being shocked into silence at the voice.

No way. It was not possible, no way in ever loving hell was this true.

But sure enough, when Keith looked up, there he was, exactly how Keith remembered him. “Go fucking figure,” he muttered, low enough that Lance couldn’t hear him, but just enough that he leaned in to catch the end of his sentence.

“I’m sorry?” Lance repeated, this time in confusion.

Keith cleared his throat. Go figure Lance wouldn’t remember him. If only he could laugh at the irony, but oh, his throat was too thick to even breathe right now.

“You know what, it’s fine, I’ll take care of it. Just leave me alone, okay?” Keith forced lightness into his tone even as his heart began to thud and the smile on his face was utterly fake.

Lance hesitated a moment, indecision written all over his features, before taking a step back. “Sorry again,” he mumbled. He was there a moment longer, fiddling with the hem of his sweater, before finally retreating a final step and spinning on his heel.

The bell chimed as the door was hurriedly pushed open and Lance disappeared from view.

A breath that Keith didn’t know he was holding slowly got released, and several minutes passed before Keith could tear his gaze away from the glass door with the bell.

No, even the best of fortunetellers couldn’t have predicted this.

~~~

The stranger now soaked in coffee was dabbing at his pants with napkins someone other than Lance had given him, and it was all Lance could do not to combust on the spot.

Holy fucking hell.

It was like someone had called Cupid down in the middle of March and demanded that he shoot Lance in the ass, because _holy fucking hell_.

Lance wasn’t the kind to believe in love at first sight. Sure, it was nice in rom-coms to make girls cry and sniffle, but that didn’t happen in real life. No, real life was all about pity dates and crappy movies that only ever led to second base, never by Lance’s choice. Real life didn’t have love at first sight.

What the hell was this?

There were words falling from his lips, and it took more concentration than Lance was willing to admit to shut his jaw to stop the steady flow of Spanish he hadn’t even realized he’d begun. Soon enough his mind was catching up to him, and he was reaching out for napkins and handing them over, an apology finally slipping out in English.

The stranger paused in his futile attempts to soak up the mess on his pants, looking up slowly at Lance. And there, there were those violet eyes he had seen for only a moment before.

Holy fucking hell.

No way in fucking hell.

Lance feels his breath catch in his throat. His heart plummet to his toes. Oh, dear god. What are the fucking odds. _Play it cool, McClain. Just act like you don’t know him. It’ll be fine. Walk out of here and you’ll never see him again._

And there, it was that intrusive little thought that he would mark as the thing that started it all. Not the coffee spill, no that was the moment. That little intrusive thought was what truly set him down his path.

He could have just walked away, forgotten about this whole encounter. But no.

 _Wow, Keith’s gotten cute_.

It was that exact intrusive little thought that he blamed for the whole damn thing. But if you asked him honestly, Lance was forever glad for that dumb little thought.

Keith muttered something under his breath—he always did have a bad habit of doing that—and Lance leaned in to catch it. Not quick enough, though.

“I’m sorry?” Wow, did he need to get control of his vocal filter, and soon.

Keith cleared his throat and shook his head, looking like he was in desperate need of someone to release the invisible necktie around his throat.

“You know what, it’s fine, I’ll take care of it. Just leave me alone, okay?” Light, airy words. Too calm for someone who just had hot coffee spilled all over their lap.

Lance swallowed and took a step back. Of course, he wouldn’t remember him. It would be stupid to think that he would. “Sorry again,” he said, barely catching himself before he added on Keith’s name to the end of that sentence. It would be a real convenient time for lightening to strike. Right about now. Any second now. Please?

And while he waited for his lightening to come, Keith appeared to be waiting for him to leave. Lance could feel as his fingers began to mess with the hole in his sweater once more, and with one more look at Keith, nodded, turned on his heel, and left.

The bell made such nice exit music.

~~~

Lance paced back and forth in the break room, phone pressed to his ear with one hand and the other in his hair. “C’mon, c’mon, pick up already.” The dial tone continued to sound, until finally, it was on the seventh ring, the one just before voicemail, when the call suddenly came to life.

“Hey Lance,” Allura said from the other end of the call, breathless. Lance paused, glancing at the watch on his wrist.

“It’s not time for your afternoon run, why are you out of breath.”

Silence.

“No reason.”

“Oh, Allura, gross!”

“Lance, it’s not what you think, let me—”

Lance cut her off. “Nope, nope, never mind, I do not want to know.” Allura sighed.

“What’s up, then?”

“You’ll never believe who I just ran into.” The story poured from his lips like a river, including the bitter cat fight between his two clients, and all the way up to him complaining about _Altea Café_ being out of vanilla.

“Can you get to the point please, Lance?” Allura interjected.

Lance paused, deciding whether or not he should actually tell her. Surely, it was all in his head, and that moment hadn’t been real. “I saw Keith again today.” Silence on the line once more. “Allura?”

“Yeah, I’m here,” she said carefully. “You saw Keith, in _Altea Café_?”

Lance nodded, and then realized she couldn’t see him nod over the phone. “Yeah.” Lance sighed. “And fuck, he was cute. I’m probably way over thinking this, but I just can’t believe I saw him again. He didn’t even recognize me!”

“What does it matter if he recognizes you or not?”

“I just…”

“Exactly. Calm down, take a deep breath, and everything will be alright. Just because you saw him once randomly in a café doesn’t mean he’s about to be popping up in your life all the time.”

He took a deep breath in, running his hand through his hair a final time, before it fell limply to his side. “You’re right. It’s just been a rough day, and that was a tipping point for me. After all these years, you’d think he’d remember me.” He scoffs and continues quietly. “Especially after what he thinks happened.”

“Lance, I’ve gotta go.” A giggle somewhere in the distance. “I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“See you later,” he says, deciding he very much does not want to know what the background noises were, and ending the call.

_Okay. Deep breath in, exhale out. You’ve got this, McClain. It’s not like you’ll ever see him again._

~~~

Keith groaned from where he was now face down on the couch, coffee stained pants thankfully off. “It’s been such a terrible day,” he said into the cushions, although the words were directed at his boyfriend, seated opposite him on a plush seat.

“Yeah, I know the feeling,” Kolivan said absently, and Keith poked his head up from the cushions, a frown tugging at his mouth. He was currently scrolling through something on his phone, eyes glued to the screen.

“I nearly got shot,” Keith said, looking directly at Kolivan.

“Did you really?” That same absent-minded tone.

“Yeah, I could have died,” Keith said, flat out lying, if only to get Kolivan’s attention.

“Did you see the news today? This little girl has a kitten that can sing.”

“You know, I’m thinking about ordering Chinese.” This got Kolivan’s attention. His eyes snapped up, and Keith propped his head up on one fist, legs in the air behind him and crossed at the ankle.

“Order me some noodles, will you?” And then his eyes were back on his phone once more, and Kolivan was lost to the outside world beyond singing kittens.

Keith groaned, plopping his face back into the couch cushions. He didn’t even like Chinese, and now he was stuck ordering that for dinner. What a shitty day.

 _But it hadn’t been all that shitty_. That stupid, nagging little voice in the back of his head that won’t shut up. _Yes_ , he thought, _running into Lance McClain wasn’t at all shitty._ Even his inner voice was heavily laced with sarcasm.

But apparently that nagging little voice had much more power than Keith had thought, because he couldn’t stop replaying that scene in his head. Over and over, first with the coffee getting dumped on his lap, the outrage he had felt, and then the feeling of everything else slipping away when he saw those blue eyes for the first time in nearly three years.

He picked his head up again, leaned it on his elbow so that he could watch Kolivan. The hulking man continued to scroll through his timeline, and Keith stared at him.

Kolivan looked up once to meet his eyes, offering him a small smile before returning to his phone.

And all Keith could do was stare.

~~~

“… and then I said, ‘well you can take your hot dogs and ketchup, Brenda, because nobody wants those anyways.’ She was real mad, you know.” His client nodded for emphasis. “Real mad.”

“Well duh,” Lance said, “who brings hotdogs and ketchup to an evening soiree?”

Mrs. Jenkins widened her eyes in the mirror. “Exactly! What was Brenda thinking?” she folds her arms over her chest. “You didn’t hear it from me, but rumor has it that’s why her first husband left her. She was never fit for that type of life.”

Lance hummed his assent, placing a steadying hand on Mrs. Jenkins’ head as he cut another layer in her hair.

“Such a shame though. Lovely daughter. You would get along well with her,” she said, and Lance looked up just in time to catch her wink at him in the mirror.

“I’m flattered, Mrs. Jenkins, but I’m happy being single.”

She tsked her tongue. “You just haven’t met the right person yet.” He smiled back at her, looking down to finish cutting her hair, even as his throat tightened. 

He spun her around, so that she could no longer meet his eyes in the mirror, scissors tucked back into his apron as he combed her hair, looking for any more uneven ends.

“Alright, I think that’s it. What do you think?” He spun her around, and she put a hand to her chest in delight, her other hand reaching up to fluff her hair.

“You always do such an amazing job,” she cooed, and Lance beamed.

“All part of the job,” he replied, untying the smock from around her neck, and helping her up out of the chair.

She walked over to the front desk, and Lance rang her up. As she handed him her credit card, Lance noticed another slip of paper tucked against the piece of plastic. On it was a single phone number, and a name.

“If you ever change your mind,” Mrs. Jenkins said in a low voice, “Nyma is a lovely girl.”

“I’ll think about it,” he said evenly, forcing a smile onto his face. Mrs. Jenkins smiled coyly back at him, before looking away, nonchalant, even as her expression never faltered.

He handed back her credit card and her receipt, waved her good bye as she walked out the door.

Allura looked over at him sympathetically from where she was organizing the shampoo display.

“Nyma’s number again?”

Lance nodded, crinkling up the little slip of paper and shoving it deep into his pocket. Lance sank down into the chair behind the front desk, checking his watch. Ten minutes until Pidge and Hunk were due to pick him up for their monthly lunch day.

Allura glanced over her shoulder, peeked around the front of the shop before returning her gaze to Lance.

“How are you today?”

“Good,” Lance replied easily, spinning around on the chair. Allura huffed, and Lance slowed to a stop until he was facing her again. “That’s not what you meant, was it?”

Allura pursed her lips, raising an eyebrow. “I’m fine,” Lance said defensively. “I ran into the dude once, and now you’re acting like I’m going to crumple any minute.”

“It’s just—” The ringing of the bell cut off the rest of her words, as both of them looked to the front door. A pissed-looking Pidge stood next to Hunk, who had his hands sheepishly behind his back, a minor look of guilt on his face.

“Turns out I made the reservation too early, and we need to leave now in order to make it to lunch on time.”

“This is why I take care of things,” Pidge mumbled as Lance sprang up and out of the spinning chair, causing it to rotate from the change in weight.

“Lemme just get my stuff,” he said, darting off to the backroom. Never keep a hungry Pidge waiting. _Never_. Lance still had the scar on his pinky from the time he had jokingly taken her plate of food, and she had stabbed him with a fork.

And then he was back out again, stepping with two of his best friends into the blinding sunshine, ready for a relaxing day at lunch.

~~~

Keith was in a small restaurant, right in the heart of the city he swore he would never come back to, sketching for his latest project. The place had popped up sometime in the three years he had been gone, before he had dropped out of college, moved back with his brother and boyfriend, and finally started doing what he actually wanted to do in life.

It was unusually warm for March, and the patio hadn’t exactly been open to customers, but Keith hadn’t always been one to follow the rules. The server glared at him every time they were forced to come out here—evidently still too cold for some—but Keith just worked better in the outdoors. He had spent too long in cramped rooms with not enough beds or blankets.

Keith looked up, feeling the warmth that the sun supplied on his cheeks. It was supposed to snow again tomorrow, but there wasn’t a cloud in sight currently.

He looked back down at his drawing, at the harsh battle scene. Currently only a sketch, it would be added to the story board, and once approved, colored and digitized. There was so much to do for the story still, but he was making it work. He had come back for a reason.

Bubbling laughter came from somewhere, and Keith looked up, squinting, to see where it was coming from. When his eyes landed on the source of the noise, he felt his stomach become reacquainted with his toes.

His high school friends were walking into the restaurant with Lance, and Lance was the one laughing. _Of course he was. He could never be serious, not even when it mattered._

Keith huffed, looking down at his jeans, as if to ask them whether or not they wanted to be stained with coffee as well. It had been a good day so far, and as far as he could tell, Lance didn’t see him.

Why did he care? Lance clearly didn’t remember him. It had only been three years, and Keith had moved past what had happened, but it still stung that Lance hadn’t recognized him. Not even to say hello.

He shook his head, trying to clear the unwanted thoughts away. It would do nothing to dwell on the past, and besides, Keith didn’t care.

He didn’t.

His pencil snapped in half just as his phone beeped. He glanced down; Kolivan had texted him, and Keith sighed. Setting down his pencil, he picked up his phone, swiping to open the message.

 **Kolivan** : I’m getting tacos for dinner

Always such a charmer. Keith typed out a reply, and then locked his phone, setting it back down on the table. Briefly, he searched for where Lance had gone before catching himself and forcing his eyes back to the drawing.

He didn’t care.

Fishing a new pencil out of the bag by his feet, he set back to work once more. He had a deadline to meet, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to get distracted by someone who didn’t even recognize him.

A second pencil broke.

~~~

They had just gotten seated—Lance facing Pidge and Hunk—when Hunk raised and eyebrow, setting his elbows on the table and leaning forward, fingertips placed together.

“So,” he said, and Lance felt a nugget of unease form. “Care to tell me why I have eight missed calls, seven texts of just exclamation points, and a voice mail that is just you screaming?”

Pidge glanced at Hunk, and then over at Lance. “You stopped at seven calls?”

“Hush, gremlin,” he said, not breaking eye contact with Hunk. “And yet, you have not texted, called, or left any voicemails asking what that was about.”

Hunk snorted. “Dude, I know you. You would want to tell me in person anyways.” Lance pouted, knowing he was right.

“Well, then I guess I’ll have to tell you.”

“Did you finally get a girlfriend?”

“Nah, be realistic, Pidge,” Hunk cut in with before Lance even had a chance to reply.

“Uh, excuse me, don’t doubt the tailor. What if I did get a girlfriend?”

Pidge raised an eyebrow. “Did you?” she asked flatly.

“No.”

“My point exactly.”

Lance leaned back into his seat, looking out the window. “I don’t have to tell you two. I can leave right now if I wanted to, leaving you both to figure out what happened.”

Hunk immediately softened. “We were just joking, you know that. C’mon buddy, tell us.”

Lance bit his lip, pretending to think it over. He had to tease them back after all. “I saw Keith,” he said finally.

A beat of silence, and then Pidge burst out laughing. Lance turned, a look of incredulity on his face, only to find Hunk already gaping at the petite brunette.

“That’s what you’re freaking out about? I’ve seen him, like, ten times in the last three days.”

“And you didn’t care to warn me?!” Lance all but screamed. A nearby patron glanced over at them harshly, and Lance winced.

Pidge continued to giggle, and he exchanged a glance with Hunk. Clearly, he was just as in the dark as Lance had been two days ago.

Finally, after swiping away a tear from her eye, Pidge shook her head. “He moved back in with Shiro, like, a week ago.”

“Shiro? As in, ‘Matt’s ex-boyfriend’ Shiro?”

“The very same one.”

A very prominent memory from freshman year decided to make a reappearance in Lance’s mind. Shiro had had Matt pinned up against the back of a row of lockers in the boy’s locker room, and they had been making out. The sight had stopped little Lance in his tracks, and it wasn’t until someone coughed behind him that he realized he had been staring. It opened up a whole new world for him. If he was being honest, that was the first time the thought of bisexuality had popped into his head.

Hunk interrupted his thoughts. “This whole freak out was because you saw Keith?” Lance snapped back to the present, and promptly blushed.

“And maybe, _maybe_ , might have _accidentally_ spilled coffee on his lap.”

Pidge burst into another round of giggles, earning another harsh stare from the same customer. “Lance, you have the most ridiculous things happen to you.”

“He didn’t even recognize me, so it doesn’t matter,” he said sharply, and Pidge abruptly shut up.

“Hence the freak out,” Hunk said quietly.

“Hence the freak out,” Lance repeated.

Awkward silence fell over the trio as Lance looked over the same menu he had seen every month for two years now.

“In other news,” Hunk says eventually, and Lance looks up from his menu, “Shadow gave birth. We now have four adorable kittens.” There’s a wide grin on his face, and Lance can’t help but feel his spirits lift at his best friend’s news. He knows how much Hunk adores Shadow. “We haven’t named them yet, still trying to get a feel for their personalities, but I can promise you two that you’ll be the first to know when we name them.”

Pidge clapped a hand down on Hunk’s shoulder, nearly out of her seat in order to do so. “Congrats, dude, you and Shay are parents!”

Hunk grew red, the tips of his ears a bright color. “Well, maybe not quite that far,” he mumbled, even as he smiled.

Lance smiled back at the two of them. Here he was, in front of his two best friends in life, each of them with their own happiness, their own someone, while Lance was freaking out over a past ghost come back to haunt him. Well, maybe not quite that far. Keith was pale, but not _that_ pale.

He couldn’t help the slight twang of sadness, though, as he looked at the two of the laugh over something Hunk had said. Something just felt like it was… missing, from his life. It had been three years since he had been with anyone for more than two weeks.

A tan hand slid into his shorts pocket, and nimble fingers found the crumpled slip that Mrs. Jenkins had given him. Something moved outside, catching his attention. A figure dressed in all black had just walked away, and Lance was staring after it. That style looked so familiar…

“… place at seven?”

Lance looked back at her, not having heard the front end of Pidge’s sentence. “Say again?”

Pidge rolled her eyes. “My place? Seven? Matt wants us all to hang out.”

Lance shrugged. “Sure, sounds good.” It was just Pidge, Matt, and Hunk. Nothing out of the ordinary.

~~~

“Tell me why, exactly, we’re going over to Pidge’s place?” Keith asked around a mouth of food.

Shiro just shook his head, a mischievous look on his face. “I’ve got some news, that’s all,” he replied cryptically, and Keith rolled his eyes.

“And what if I had plans?” Shiro just raised an eyebrow. Keith swallowed what was in his mouth and rolled his eyes. “Alright, yeah, I don’t have any plans. Kolivan is working late tonight.”

“Of course, he is,” Shiro muttered, turning his back and walking out of the kitchen, down the hall.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Keith called after him, indignance rising in his chest. Kolivan was a cop, they worked late. It was practically a staple of the job.

“Nothing!” Shiro called back, and Keith narrowed his eyes. His foster brother definitely meant something, but Keith wasn’t going to push. Shiro wasn’t one to budge.

He turned back to his food, contently munching on a bowl of Raisin Bran. But as he munched, his traitorous mind kept replaying that same scene, over and over and over again.

He was at lunch, minding his own business, and that bastard had turned to look out the window. Keith had just payed—he was leaving anyways—when he swore that their eyes met. And Lance had almost seemed to recognize him.

 _Well yeah, because_ now _is a convenient time for him._

Huffing, Keith dumped what was left of the milk down the drain, washed away the residue in his bowl. It was a simple hang out with Pidge and Matt. _Wait_.

“Don’t Pidge and Matt live together?” he asked innocently.

Shiro emerged from the hall, having put on a clean shirt and jeans. “Yeah, why?”

“You’re totally fine with going over to your ex-boyfriend’s place?”

The color drained from Shiro’s face, quickly replaced by a pink tinge in his ears. “So, uh,” an awkward laugh, “that might be exactly the reason we’re going over there?”

Keith waited for him to expand on his statement.

“Matt and I are kinda together again.”

Oh. _Oh_. “Is that why he’s been over here three times in the last two days?”

Shiro sighed, shaking his head fondly. “You are the most oblivious person I have ever met.” But Keith’s mind was still processing. The last time they had been together was senior prom night, a few weeks before Shiro had been deployed. They didn’t want to do long distance, and Shiro was too afraid of the judgement that might be in the military. They had split the same night that…

_No._

He doesn’t care. He’s moved on. He doesn’t care.

“Time to go,” Shiro said, interrupting his thoughts. Snagging his keys from the counter, Keith trailed after Shiro, shutting and locking the door behind them.

It was just Pidge and Matt. It would be fine.

~~~

It was not fine. It was very not fine.

Lance had expected it to be the delivery person. Or maybe a cop, come to tell them that they were too loud. Hell, Lance wouldn’t have been as surprised if Mrs. Jenkins’ friend’s daughter Nyma showed up.

He hadn’t expected it to be Keith.

They had arrived at Pidge and Matt’s house not that long ago, and Pidge was setting up the board games currently, while Matt and Hunk chatted in the kitchen about some science thing. Pidge had told him they were expecting someone else, but really, Lance did not ever see this coming.

He was standing there, dumbfounded, looking back at Shiro and Keith standing awkwardly in the doorway.

“Come in?” he said, more of a question than a statement, hating how his voice squeaked.

“Lance, who’s at the door?” Matt called from the kitchen. There was no time to answer before he came strolling over, hands in his pockets. But the minute that his eyes landed on Shiro, his face lit up like a kid on Christmas, leaping up to tackle Shiro. Shiro caught him easily, laughing as he did so.

“Babe, I saw you two hours ago,” he said, voice muffled by Matt’s hair. Matt gave no reply, only laughing.

Lance wasn’t watching them, though. He was staring at the black-haired boy who had haunted his mind for the last two days, and that boy was staring right back.

“Keith,” he said simply, mouth and mind unable to coordinate proper speech.

Keith’s face hardened, and Lance felt his spirits drop. “Oh, so now you recognize me?” He stormed past the happy couple and into the living room, leaving Lance to look after his departing form.

Pidge took that exact moment to come around the corner, tucking her hair behind her ear. That was her one and only nervous habit, but the guilty look on her face was more than tell enough. “Did I forget to mention that Keith and Shiro would be coming over too?”

“Yeah, actually, you did,” Lance replied lightly, too shocked to be mad. Shiro and Matt were finally untangling themselves from each other, Matt taking Shiro’s left hand in his right. “Well, tonight should be fun, right?” he asked.

Fun was one word for it.

~~~

Keith was laughing at Shiro, who was looking properly nervous as he knocked on Pidge’s apartment door.

“You’ve known them forever, what’s there to be worried about? Matt is a puppy, and Pidge is all bark, no bite. I really don’t see why you look like you’ve just seen mom cooking again.”

And then the door opened, and Keith understood.

There was Lance, looking flushed and bright eyed, dressed in a form fitting blue t-shirt and jeans. Suddenly, Keith knew exactly why Shiro looked so nervous. “Come in?” His voice squeaked at the end of his question.

“Lance, who’s at the door?” Lance didn’t answer, too busy staring at Keith with a dumbfounded look on his face. He couldn’t say anything either, though, as he was too busy staring back at Lance. He could only imagine how stupid he looked.

But this time, there was no look of confusion. This time, Lance clearly remembered him. Knew his face, even if there was a new scar marring it. In the corner of his eye, he saw Matt walking over. His face lit up, and then he was tackling Shiro with a bear hug.

Keith couldn’t focus on them, though. Too many thoughts, too many emotions were swirling around in his head.

 _Kolivan should be here_.

But it was Lance staring him in the face.

“Keith?”

 _Oh, so he can speak, go figure. Would have been nice if his mouth had been sewn shut sometime in the last two days_. But Keith was too mad, too _hurt_ to give Lance the time of day. He did care.

“Oh, so now you recognize me?” Lance’s face fell, and he stormed past him into Pidge’s apartment. Let his face fall. Lance deserved to hurt too.

Hunk met him in the living room, a bowl of chips in one hand and a jar of salsa in the other. But unlike his buffoon of a best friend in the doorway, Hunk broke out into a smile. Carefully setting the overfull bowl down and the salsa next to him, Hunk wrapped Keith up in a bear hug.

“It’s been too long man, you should have swung by sooner.”

Keith couldn’t reply, too busy having the air crushed out of his lungs. Eventually, Hunk set him down, and he took a moment to breathe deeply, attempting to get his breath back.

“Did you get stronger since I last saw you?” he asked finally, and Hunk only laughed.

“We’ve got so much to catch up on.”

“Yeah,” Keith said, feeling his mood lift just a bit. “We do.”

“So, how have you been?”

They stood there chatting, the bowl of food getting eaten every now and again as Hunk and Keith traded stories back and forth. Pidge and Lance trailed in a few minutes later, taking places on the couch, Shiro and Matt following them. Eventually, they were all seated, and Keith was adamantly looking everywhere but Lance. And it was going fine until Matt opened his mouth.

“Where’s Kolivan tonight?” Matt asked casually, tucked under Shiro’s arm.

Keith opened his mouth to reply that once again, he had taken the late shift, but Lance beat him to it. “Who’s Kolivan?”

He was forced to look directly at the person he had been avoiding for so long. Upon seeing Lance’s confusion and Pidge’s look of panic, Keith smirked. “My boyfriend. Good thing it’s not—”

“He took the night shift,” Shiro interjected with, cutting Keith off before he had a chance to finish his statement. “He’s a cop.”

“Oh,” Lance said simply, and then suddenly found the contents of his red solo cup to be very intriguing.

Keith glared at Shiro, but Shiro only shook his head back at him. _Not here_.

Fine. If Keith had to be civil, he could be civil.

Conversation picked back up again with Hunk recounting in vivid detail the birth of Shadow’s kittens. Keith listened along, content to just sit back and catch up. These were his high school friends, too. Lance couldn’t own people.

He couldn’t ignore the discomfort though. Like some thin string, stretched taut between him and the boy with the blue eyes. Like it could be broken by even just a single misspoken word. Keith had never known Lance to shut up before, but he must have felt the string too, for he kept quiet.

The sky was steadily growing darker, until it was nearly pitch-black outside. Glancing briefly at his watch, he started when he saw the time. 11:48.

“Oh shit, I’ve got to get going. I’m supposed to meet up with Kolivan at his house, and his shift is nearly over.”

“I’ll walk you out,” Lance said suddenly, jumping to his feet. He saw Pidge and Hunk exchange a glance, but Lance seemed determined.

“Must you?” Keith asked, his voice borderline menacing.

Lance shrugged. “You’re not going to stop me, are you?” It would have been so easy to rise to the challenge, to fall back into their petty little rivalry. But Keith wasn’t that person now. It had been three years; he was a mature adult now.

Keith shrugged back, giving him a noncommittal answer before turning on his heel and making his way to the front door.

Lance followed quietly behind him, even as Keith tried to put as much distance between them as possible.

Reaching for the doorknob, he already had the door a fraction open when Lance spoke. “It was really nice to see you again.” His words were soft, quiet. Not at all like the Lance he knew.

Answers flitted through his mind, unwanted emotions bubbling up once more. He paused, fighting back the answer he wanted to say.

Facing the hall of the apartment complex, Keith opened the door enough for him to slip through. “It wasn’t nice seeing you,” he said finally, before stepping out and walking quickly down the hallway.

He heard the door shut behind him, the echoing silence that had followed his words.

He didn’t care.

~~~

Lance watched as Keith walked down the hallway, the impact of his words rocking him. He had meant what he said, and it appeared Keith meant what he replied.

 _It wasn’t nice seeing you_.

He should have said something in the coffee shop. He should have been more welcoming to him here. There were so many things that he should have done.

Lance sighed, resting his forehead against the now shut door. Just because they all hung out tonight doesn’t mean this was going to be a regular thing. Seeing the guy twice, two days in a row, didn’t matter either.

_Fuck._

Keith had a boyfriend. Lance didn’t know why that revelation hit him so hard. Keith was attractive, there was no denying that. He shouldn’t have been surprised.

So why was he?

“Time for us to go, too,” Shiro said, voice distant. A moment later, two sets of footfalls began to walk his way. He leaned away from the door, collected his thoughts, and put a smile on his face.

Shiro and Matt appeared a moment later, each looking smitten. Lance couldn’t help but be happy for them. They fit so well together, it was hard to imagine them ever being apart.

“Be safe,” he joked, and Shiro gave him a look over Matt’s head. Lance chuckled, shooting him a single finger gun. Matt just smirked, lifting Shiro’s hand from where he held it and licking a stripe on the back of his hand.

“Don’t be gross,” Pidge said, wrinkling her nose.

“I’ll be as gross as I want to be,” Matt retorted.

“Fine, be that way. I’m changing the locks again.”

A look of pure panic crossed Matt’s face. “You wouldn’t.”

“Try me.”

They faced off, before Matt finally broke down laughing. “It really is time for us to go. I’ll see you tomorrow, Katie.”

“See ya,” she replied. Shiro opened the door, and the happy couple walked out and into the rest of the apartment complex.

Closing the door, Pidge slowly spun the lock and then turned to face Lance. Hunk stood awkwardly off to the side, eating from the (now nearly empty) bowl of chips.

“How bad was that?” she asked, cool as a cucumber.

“What scale are we using?” Lance countered.

A chip crunched, and then Hunk spoke. “From like,” crunch, “one, to the time you simultaneously vomited and peed your pants in the middle of your salutatorian speech.”

Lance thought for a moment. “I’d go with probably the first time that I got wasted.”

Pidge cringed. “That bad?”

Lance nodded. “Yeah, that bad. He has a boyfriend! And the whole time he was giving me the death eyes, when he wasn’t actively avoiding looking at me. Yes, it was bad, Katherine.”

Pidge stilled. “Don’t you ever use my full name, Lance.”

“Ooh, you’re in trouble,” Hunk said, still munching on his chips.

“Alright, maybe not that bad,” he said quietly, pleading at Hunk with his eyes. Hunk shook his head; he wasn’t going to get himself killed too.

“Besides, it’s not like it’ll happen that frequently. I think we all learned our lesson tonight,” she said, moving away from the door and back out into the living room. Lance trailed after her, and Hunk followed him.

“Do you think he hates me?” Lance asked suddenly, flopping down onto Pidge’s couch. Hunk and Pidge exchanged glances, neither answering Lance’s question. “He does, doesn’t he?”

“Well…” Pidge said. “The last time you saw him was prom night. Did you ever explain to him what actually happened?”

Lance shook his head. “He never gave me the chance.”

“Maybe you should try and start there.”

“No way. If tonight is anything to go by, he doesn’t want me in his life again, and I certainly don’t want him in mine. He didn’t even recognize me at first.”

With his head buried in the pillows of Pidge’s couch, Lance didn’t see the second look exchanged between Hunk and Pidge.

“I’m sorry, buddy,” Hunk said at last. He waited for a reply from Lance, but none came. “Buddy?” Hunk gently nudged him with a toe, only to get a snore in response.

“Just leave him there,” Pidge said. “You can crash in the spare bedroom again if you want.”

Hunk gave her a grateful smile. “Thanks. Are mine and Lance’s pajamas still here from last time?”

“Right where you left them.”

“Awesome. I’m going to call Shay and let her know I’m staying here tonight. I don’t like driving at night.”

He began to walk towards the bedrooms, and paused, looking back at Lance’s sleeping form. “Do you really think they’re going to be able to get past it?”

Pidge looked at Lance as well. “For all of our sakes, I sure hope so.”

~~~

Keith huffed, looking down at the text he had received three minutes ago, still annoyed and unbelieving. Go fucking figure that something would “come up last minute” at the station. It’s not like Kolivan didn’t pull this crap all the time. It’s not like it still stung, or anything. It’s not like it was the anniversary of the day that they met (not that Kolivan was aware of that, he thought that dates in general were meaningless).

The theater was pretty packed. _Ready Player One_ had just dropped, and Keith had been looking forward to it for quite a while. It was hard not to, with all of the hype that had been going around. He had even managed to avoid a good number of spoilers. There was the single open seat on his left, the one he had been saving for Kolivan, but other than that, there was no other open seat in the theater. _Please don’t let some weirdo sit next to me_ , he thought silently. _Or a loud laugher,_ he added after a moment.

 _What if it’s_ —no. He cut that thought off before it could even finish. The last time he had seen Lance was three days ago at Pidge’s place, and they hadn’t spoken since. Just because he saw him twice (three times, if he was counting the café incident), doesn’t mean anything. Nothing at all. So, why did his blue eyes just keep popping back up everywhere he looked?

Keith shook his head. He was obsessing, and he knew that, even if he couldn’t seem to help it. He always did have such a hard time getting past old memories, especially when old memories just can’t seem to leave him alone. Shiro had always told him how he had a bad habit of fixating on things.

He didn’t even want to consider what it might mean. What all of these intrusive thoughts pointed to. It hadn’t even been a week since Keith had run into Lance for the first time in three years, and he just couldn’t get him out of his head, no matter how hard he tried. There was a small knot of anger forming in his stomach the longer he dwelled on it. _Get yourself together, Keith_.

“Is this seat open?” a hushed whisper asked from above his head.

Keith didn’t bother looking up, just saying, “Go ahead and take it. I’m not saving it anymore.”

“Awesome,” said the same hushed whisper, and a body sat down into the seat next to him. The trailers had just begun, the theater lights darkening all the way. The movie would start soon, and after a moment, Keith couldn’t resist sneaking a glance over at the newcomer, whoever had taken the last empty seat in the theater.

“You’re kidding me,” he said softly as his stomach became acquainted with the popcorn and soda covered floor.

~~~

Ever since Lance had woken up on Pidge’s couch the morning after the disastrous night before, he had been actively avoiding Keith. And it certainly wasn’t _easy_.

Everywhere Lance went, there was Keith. He had ended up behind him at the grocery store (in which Lance had promptly turned heel and moved to a far more crowded lane), he had seen him briefly pause at the window of Lance’s work, looking in at one of the shampoo displays (in which Lance fled to the backroom), and then they had somehow ended up at a stoplight together. There was no room for Lance to flee from that one, so he had just kept his eyes locked straight ahead on the light.

“It almost sounds like you’re purposefully trying to run into him,” Pidge said, raising a single eyebrow when Lance had brought it up to her.

He choked on what he was drinking, coughing and spluttering. “Of course not! He made it rather clear that he wants nothing to do with me,” he said, the last part of his statement dissolving into a low mutter.

“Uh huh,” Pidge replied, sipping her own drink. For whatever reason, Lance’s mind flashed to the Kermit meme. Pidge knew something.

But… did Lance want to know what she knew?

No. He didn’t.

That’s what Lance had been telling himself as he walked into the movie theater, looking for any open seat. He really hadn’t realized that this movie would have this much hype, hence the reason he brushed off Hunk asking if he wanted Lance to save him a seat.

And now, here he was, standing in the doorway and looking around for any empty seat. His eyes scanned, over and over again, and… there! There was a single open seat, right in the middle both vertically and horizontally, also known as the best location in the theater. Lance just prayed that it wasn’t being saved as he began to climb the stairs.

“Scuze me, pardon me, oops, sorry,” Lance whispered, making his way down the aisle. “Is this seat open?” he asked when he had finally reached his destination. The person to the right of the seat didn’t even look up as he responded.

“Go ahead and take it. I’m not saving it anymore.”

Lance paused. The stranger hadn’t taken his eyes off the movie screen—which was only showing previews, for the record—and Lance could tell that he wasn’t really paying attention. The lights began to dim, signaling the last set of previews, and Lance didn’t want to second guess his luck.

“Awesome,” he said, sitting down. Placing his drink in the cupholder, Lance settled back to enjoy the rest of the previews, when he felt a set of eyes on his neck.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” said a low voice, and Lance glanced over to his right. His eyes were still adjusting to the dark, so it took Lance a moment to recognize the features of the person. When he did, though, his heart nearly stopped.

“Hey Keith,” he said nervously, feeling his heart suddenly pick up in rhythm. _No. This was stupid._

Keith scowled. “Don’t speak to me. Just enjoy the movie,” he said, turning back to the screen.

Ouch. Lance felt the corner of his mouth tug down and faced his head back towards the front once more.

They had been friends in high school, that much was true, but it didn’t mean that they would automatically become friends again once they saw each other. But he really couldn’t help the way that the memories just seemed to pop up around Keith, as well as everything that had happened on that one night. _Guilty._ He was still guilty for how it ended, what had happened, and how he had never gotten a chance to explain.

His phone buzzed, and Keith turned to give him a glare. Lance didn’t look at him, only sheepishly pulled out his phone to turn his ringer off. A single text was on the display screen, the name reading “Nyma”. He would talk to her later, though.

The screen had turned black, and soon, the opening music was playing. Lance took a sip of his drink, setting it back down again in the cupholder. Or, tried to at least. A new drink was in there now, and Lance glanced over at Keith. As innocent as could be.

“That’s my cupholder,” he whisper shouted, louder than he really needed to, but he didn’t want to get closer to Keith than he needed to.

“No, it’s not,” Keith replied, voice low, eyes on the screen.

“Yeah, it is,” Lance shot back, voice even louder now.

“Just take the other one.”

“That one’s full, too.”

“Oh well. Hold it, then.”

“The other cupholder is empty on your side.”

“Do I look like I care?”

“Keith, I will—”

Several loud shushing noises came from all around them, and the tips of Keith’s ears turned pink. Wordlessly, he took his drink out of the cupholder he had stolen, making a face at Lance as he moved it to the other one. Lance glared right back as he set down his drink in his—rightful—cupholder, completely oblivious to what was happening on the screen.

Crossing his arms over his chest, he attempted to watch the movie. It was expensive nowadays to go to the movies, and he wasn’t going to waste it by being in a petty argument with his formal rival/friend/person that no longer knew him.

The movie was actually really interesting. It was a sci-fi flick about videogames, and there was a lot of pop culture trivia that Lance didn’t quite get but was funny nonetheless.

He was really engaged in the movie, completely engrossed as the main character raced back to the stacks to try and save his aunt and her boyfriend. Predictably, the protagonist didn’t get there in time, watching as the whole set of stacks went down in flames.

And then came a sniffle from his right. And then another one. Lance looked over, only to see Keith trying to inconspicuously wipe away a tear.

Lance felt his heart break. He still remembered that Keith wasn’t really okay when the parent died in any movie, book, or show. Lance didn’t know a lot about his life before he was adopted by Shiro’s parents, but he knew enough to put some of the pieces together.

Silently, he dug out the small, pocketsize Kleenex that he always carried with him, passing it over to Keith. He hesitated for just a moment, looking from the offering up to Lance’s face, and Lance smiled gently.

Slowly, he took it, opening it and taking out a single tissue before passing it back. Lance waved him off, a silent “keep it,” and Keith tucked it into his jacket.

Something in Lance’s stomach—it definitely wasn’t his heart—eased at the small action. Maybe Keith didn’t hate him. Sure, the coffee thing was kind of a shitty way to get reunited, but it was better than other possible meetings.

The movie drew to a close, and the lights slowly came back on as the credits rolled. Keith stood up, his joints popping, and Lance watched him as he stood up, the edge of his shirt riding up just barely. _Nope, not gonna do that today_.

Lance pulled out his phone, only to find seven new texts from Nyma. Lance groaned; if he didn’t answer in a certain time, she had a bad habit of blowing up his phone. Just then, three more texted appeared.

In the time that it took him to answer her and get her to calm down, Keith had already disappeared.

Damn. That was too bad.

Lance walked out of the now nearly empty theater, feeling weirdly downtrodden. The movie was great; there was no reason to be like this.

He sighed, walking back out in the fading sunlight. It was cold again, too cold for the end of March. His jacket over his sweater wasn’t going to be enough, and he had left his scarf in his car.

Just as he was contemplating how long it would take him to get out of the cold and into the warmth again, a voice spoke behind him.

“Thanks for the tissues, by the way.”

Lance paused, not wanting to turn around. “No problem,” he said lightly. But Keith wasn’t going to be deterred.

He came around until he was standing on Lance’s left side, hands buried in his jacket pockets. Lance was shivering and trying his best not to show it as Mr. Unaffected gazed out at the street.

“I’m sorry for being such a dick at Pidge’s house. Bad night.”

“It’s no problem,” Lance replied quickly, his teeth beginning to chatter. He looked over at Keith, only to find him watching him with a curious expression. “What?” Lance asked, defensive.

“Nothing,” Keith said, averting his eyes.

Silence descended over the pair, and as cold as Lance was, he couldn’t seem to move his limbs in order to walk away. “Do you think maybe we could get together for coffee, catch up?” Lance asked, tripping over his words.

“Are you going to spill it on me?”

“Spill it on you? What are you talking about?”

Keith was staring at him, incredulously. “You’re fucking kidding me. You don’t remember?”

Lance did remember. He remembered very clearly. “No idea.”

Keith scoffed. “Fuck off, Lance.” He looked at Lance for another moment, before walking away, out into the parking lot.

The sun had fully set now, the streetlamps flickering on, casting an ominous feel over the place. Lance sighed. It had been in the spur of the moment to ask that question, and it had been stupid. Whatever. Keith has made it clear: he didn’t want anything to do with Lance.

Making his way to his car, Lance couldn’t ignore the small stab of sadness and guilt that echoed in his stomach.

~~~

Keith watched from his car as Lance trudged through the parking lot to his own car, hands shoved deep in his pockets. He waited until he got safely into his car, and then pulled out of the lot. Kolivan was waiting at home for him and Keith didn’t want to keep him up too late. He just had to make sure that Lance got into his car safely. It was late, after all.

~~~

Lance sighed, dropping down onto the couch next to Hunk. He looked up from his phone, assessing Lance’s face.

“What happened?”

Lance sighed again. “Nothing, big guy. Everything’s cool.”

“That’s a lie, Lance, what happened?”

“Ijustranintokeithatthemovies.”

“In English, please?” Shay asked, walking in from around the corner, carrying a plate of food. She sat down gracefully next to Hunk, folding her legs under her. She kissed Hunk on the cheek, and Lance wrinkled his nose.

“I just ran into Keith at the movies,” he mumbled, feeling heat creep up his neck, staining his face.

Now it was Hunk’s turn to sigh. “You’re becoming borderline obsessive, dude. I get that you were rivals in high school, but you’re both adults now. You need to get over this.”

“I am _not_ obsessing. If anybody’s being obsessive, it’s you.”

Hunk just gave him a look. Lance gave him a look back. “It’s what they call ‘guilt’ Lance. Maybe the reason you keep seeing Keith everywhere is because it’s time to finally face what happened three years ago. That’s clearly why he’s on your mind so much. And besides, you’ll both feel better once you finally tell him what really happened. Who knows, maybe—”

“Maybe nothing. I already tried to invite him out for coffee, so that I could tell him. But he shot me down, so there’s no point in me trying. If he wants to let this petty shit come back up, fine, it’s whatever. Everything was better without him!” Lance hadn’t even realized that his words were building up until he practically shouted the final statement. His hands were shaking as well. “I’m going to bed,” he said, standing up and walking out of the living room.

The door slammed behind him, reverberating in its frame. Lance felt the hot tears begin to burn in his eyes, and he blinked trying to clear them away. He knew Hunk was right, but that didn’t make the truth any less painful.

Flopping down onto his bed, Lance didn’t bother to even kick off his jeans as he crawled under the covers. _Fuck you, Kogane_ , he thought. _Fuck you_.

~~~

His alarm blared, startling him as Lance woke up abruptly by rolling off the bed. “wh’ time ‘s it?” he mumbled, feeling around his bed for his phone. He rubbed at his eyes with his free hand, yawning. His hand finally closed on his phone, and he shut the still blaring alarm off. 8:07.

It took a moment for his mind to register what the time was, he shot up from where he sat on the floor, bashing his arm into the bedside table.

“Ow, fuck, shit, shit, shit, I’m so late.” His first appointment wasn’t actually until 9 am, so if he hurried, he could get there on time. But the salon was a 15-minute walk, and Hunk had probably already left meaning that Lance couldn’t catch a ride with him, and there would be no time to do his skin-care routine, or get his workstation prepped the way he liked, or—

Lance stopped in his tracks. “Breathe, Lance,” he muttered to himself, taking a deep breath in, holding it, and then blowing it back out. “Nothing good ever comes from rushing.”

He still hurried about through his morning schedule, but with less of a worry in his step than before. He would get there on time; he always did.

 _No time for the skin care routine,_ Lance realized as he checked the time on his phone once again. Grabbing a breakfast bar from where it was sitting on the counter—along with a note from Hunk that Lance didn’t have time to read right now—he shut the door behind him as he bustled out into the apartment complex hallway.

It would be fine, and besides, no one ever showed up to their appointments on time. It was like, the law of hairdressers. That meant he had at least a five-minute window to catch his breath and prep for the day once he got there.

People were dodging out of his way as he strode down the sidewalk. One woman even spilled her coffee trying to get out of his way. There was no time to pause and think about it, even as more people continued to duck out of his path.

Their small city normally wasn’t this crowded this early in the morning, but it wasn’t a usual morning. The harsh winter was finally loosening its grip, allowing for minor glimpses of spring to slip through. As soon as the weather began to look and feel nice again, the people swarmed to the streets like ants to a spilled root beer. Lance himself was enjoying the warmer weather—he had forgotten his scarf at home, so he was especially grateful. Hell, if he wasn’t running late, he would have slowed down to bask in the sunshine a bit longer.

But he was running late, and that meant that he couldn’t soak up the sun despite how desperately he wanted to. A familiar twang of home echoed in him. Even if he had moved to the states when he was seven, something inside of him still called to Cuba as his home.

Lance sighed, shaking his head and checking his phone for the time once more. 8:57. Luckily, the salon was in sight, and it wasn’t even nine yet.

The bell chimed as he pushed open the door. Allura, standing behind the front counter, looked up, narrowing her eyes when she saw Lance.

“You’re late,” she said simply, her faint accent tinged with something else.

“No, actually, I’m not,” Lance replied, glancing up at the clock on the wall, just above her head. “It’s currently 8:59, meaning that I am on time.”

Allura sighed, a small smile edging its way onto her face. “Late night?”

Lance shook his head. “I wish,” he mumbled, before moving around the counter to stand next to her, peeking over her shoulder to check his schedule for the day. “Ugh, you’re kidding me, I’ve got a client right at nine? Allura, you know how much I hate morning appointments.”

The white-haired-morning-booker-she-devil shrugged, the small smile on her face growing into a full-blown smile. “You shouldn’t have left me in charge with your schedule then, Lance.” She paused. “Or, well, considering the last time you managed it on your own, you somehow booked your two biggest clients for the same time, and in the process lost both of them.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m well aware. That’s why I bow down to you, princess.” Color rose up to her cheeks, barely noticeable on her dark skin.

“I’ve told you not to call me that.”

“Oh, right, I forgot. Only his royal pain in the ass can call you that.”

“Lance—” their bickering was interrupted as the bell chimed, drawing their attention to the door.

Lance could have sworn his heart stopped in that moment. “I’m going to the backroom,” he said, before Allura or _he_ could say anything. He barely heard the front end of Allura’s welcome before darting away to hide in the storage closet he called the “backroom.”

“Please don’t let it be me, please don’t let it be me,” he said, impatiently waiting for the photo that Allura had sent him to load. It was today’s schedule. Of course, she had somehow known that he was going to be late, going ahead and sending it to him. Lance exhaled harshly. She truly was a blessing to this earth.

The photo was taking forever to load. _Stupid salon Wi-Fi_. Ah, there it was. Lance scanned down to find his name, and then over to find out who his nine o’clock appointment was. Keith K.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he muttered, leaning his head back against the wall, only to do it a tad bit too forcefully, smashing the back of his skull into a shelf. He groaned in pain.

This was turning out to be a shitty morning.

He had to face him eventually, though, and Lance couldn’t really afford to miss out on any clients at the moment. Hunk was right. As soon as he got it off his chest, Lance would stop obsessing, and be able to move on. This was the perfect time.

“Breathe in, breathe out,” he said quietly, bracing himself for the verbal beating he was going to receive when he faced Keith. The mullet head wasn’t exactly one to mince his words when he was ticked off.

Slowly, he made his way to his station, tying on his apron as he walked. Patting his pockets, he checked to make sure that he had everything he needed. Scissors, extra clips so he didn’t have to dig for them, a comb, smaller scissors. He was all set. No reason to escape now.

Keith’s head came into view, and Lance took another breath. It was just Keith. _Don’t be so freaked, Lance_ , he mentally scolded himself.

Their eyes met in the mirror, and Lance gave a small wave. _Play it cool._

“What can I do for you today?” Lance asked, all business.

Keith was silent for a moment, watching Lance in the mirror. Lance, however, kept his eyes firmly glued to the task at hand: fixing that atrocious mess Keith called a hairstyle.

“Just cut my hair, please.”

Lance huffed. “How short? Do you have anything in mind?”

Keith was silent once more, and Lance glanced in the mirror, only to find the guy looking confused. “I, uh, I don’t really know, actually. My boyfriend just said to get it cut, and so here I am.”

Lance tugged gently on a lock, considering. “For your complexion and face shape, I recommend leaving it a little longer. Not as long as it is now, you could definitely use a trim. And with the amount of hair you have—” Lance ran his hand through it, from the top of Keith’s neck up to the crown of his skull, “—maybe an undercut to lighten it a bit.”

Keith just shrugged. “Do whatever, I guess. You’re the hair person, not me.” Lance pursed his lips, still thinking.

“Let’s get you shampooed, then,” Lance said, pointing to the direction of the washing stations. “Thace will take care of you.”

Keith stood up, made a brief face at Lance, and then walked to where he was pointing. As soon as he was out of sight, Lance whipped out his phone, sending a quick text to Hunk.

 **Lancey Pants** : take a guess abt who my first client is today. ding ding ding! it’s keith. ugh, the guy totally hates me. oh, and btw, ty for the bkfast bar this morning :)) anyways, gtg, i’ll talk to you later, have to fix this mess of a hair

He put his phone away without waiting for a response, just as Keith came walking back over with a thick black towel wrapped around his head.

Lance smirked. “Good to know you finally have been acquainted with shampoo.” Keith just scowled, sitting back down in the chair.

Pumping the pedal, Lance moved the seat up to a workable height. No reason to kill his back bending over.

Taking the towel off of Keith’s head, he set to work. First, combing it all out and finding Keith’s part. Then came the matter of pinning up what hair wasn’t going to be shaved off and determining just how much needed to go.

It was unusually silent as he worked. Lance was used to the chatty women—and even men—that came through, blabbering about whatever their current woe in life was. But Keith didn’t say a word. Lance had glanced up a few times, making sure that Keith hadn’t somehow fallen asleep. Much to his surprise, Keith was very much awake, watching Lance in the mirror as he worked.

A few conversation starters popped into his head, but Lance shot down all of them. It brought up too many possible avenues for the conversation to lead in a direction that he didn’t want it to. Even if he wanted to, Lance couldn’t seem to find the words to say what was actually on his mind.

“How have you been?” Keith asked suddenly, and Lance stilled, the electric clipper primed in his hand.

“I’ve been pretty good,” Lance said slowly, attempting (and failing) to focus back in on just Keith’s hair. Keith gave no reply, and Lance took it as a sign that he should probably expand. “No idea if you remember or not, but I had wanted to be an astronomer. Found out pretty quickly that it required _a lot_ of math, and my cosmetology class was pretty interesting, and, well, here we are.” His words came out in a jumbled rush, growing fainter and fainter until the end of his statement was nearly non-existent. He cleared his throat. “How about you?”

Keith shrugged, jostling the hair that Lance was trying to shave off. “I’m alright myself.” Lance waited for him to say more, but he never did.

With the undercut properly shaved in, Lance set to work on fixing the rest of Keith’s hair. Much to his surprise, his hair wasn’t in bad shape. The roots were healthy, and there were far less split ends than Lance had been anticipating. He was almost done when the words slipped past his lips. “What do you do now?”

His question seemed to catch Keith off-guard as well, as he looked up at him in surprise. “Oh, well,” he began, a red color rising up his neck. “I’m actually a graphic artist.”

“Dude are you for real? That was your dream job in high school! What happened to ‘being practical’ and joining the air force like your brother?”

Keith shrugged once more. “I saw what it did to him, and I really didn’t have a knack for following authority.”

Lance chuckled. “That’s for sure.”

Something had eased in the air between them. It didn’t feel as…heavy, anymore. And Keith actually had a small smile on his face.

Making a few more cuts, Lance spun the chair around so that Keith was facing away from the mirror. “All done,” he said, handing Keith a handheld mirror.

Keith raised a hand up to his newly cut hair. It was shorter, but Lance had maintained some of the length around his face, so that it framed it. And in the back, the undercut, hidden by Keith’s hair when he wore it down.

Stepping behind him, Lance gathered what remained of Keith’s hair, tying it into a small top knot so that he was better able to see the back of his head.

Turning this way and that, Keith examined Lance’s work.

“Kolivan is going to love this,” he murmured, and Lance pretended that he didn’t hear him. “Thanks, Lance.”

Lance smiled at him. It was always so satisfying to see a client fall in love with their hair. “Anytime. It’s my job after all,” he said with a light laugh. Lance busied himself with cleaning up his workstation, sweeping away the hair that had gathered around the base of the chair. In his peripheral vision, he saw Keith beginning to move away.

A small voice inside his head told him to call after him, to see if he wanted to grab coffee so that they could talk, clear away the animosity between them. But a bigger voice told him that it wasn’t worth it.

By the time that Lance looked up fully, Keith was gone. In his place, he had left a small stack of bills. A $15 tip. Pocketing the money, Lance sat down in the chair, pulling out his phone to see if Hunk had replied. Maybe… maybe it wasn’t as shitty a morning as he had thought.

~~~

Keith pulled down the sun visor in his car, flipping open the mirror. He examined his new haircut, turning this way and that to see as much as he could in the small square of glass. Lance had done a good job, that much was true. _Better than a good job_. He looked great.

He ran a hand through his hair, flipping up the visor as he did so. His editor had bumped up his deadline, and Keith knew that he needed to get to work on his next story panel, but his hair had been bothering him so much that he couldn’t function. Hence the necessary haircut.

As he drove away, Keith couldn’t help but think back to his conversation with Lance the night before. They both had every reason to hate each other, but Lance actually seemed like he wanted to move past it. But Keith couldn’t forget that night. That night, and the fall out afterwards. He had every reason to hate Lance—so why did he find himself smiling at the thought of the tan boy?

~~~

 **Keith** : has Lance’s number changed in the last three years?

 **Shiro** : whatever you’re about to do, don’t

 **Keith** : I was just going to ask him to coffee, that’s all

 **Shiro** : alright…

 **Shiro** : and no, it hasn’t

~~~

“I’m home,” Keith called as he used his foot to shut the door behind him.

“I’m in the bedroom!” came an unexpected reply. Keith frowned. Kolivan was supposed to be on a shift right now, why was he here? It was his voice, so it couldn’t have been anyone else.

Keith set down his art bag on the counter, wandering slowly towards the bedroom. He could hear the shower running, even though the bedroom door was wide open.

“Kolivan? I thought you had a shift, what are you doing home?”

“Just felt like taking the day off. It’s been stressful lately.”

Keith paused just outside the bathroom door, which was open as well. Steam was fogging up the mirrors, so that Keith couldn’t see Kolivan in the shower without moving all the way in.

“Why don’t you join me?”

“No thanks.”

“C’mon babe, you know you wanna.”

“I said no thanks, Kolivan.”

“Don’t be a dick and get your pretty little ass in here.” There was a threatening tone to his words that halted Keith in his retreat. Kolivan had never gone beyond this point before, but there was something off about him today that worried him.

“I just got my hair done,” Keith grumbled, even as he began to step out of his shoes and pull off his top.

“Good boy,” Kolivan purred, and Keith rolled his eyes. He had never really gotten behind that phrase, and even after two years it made his skin crawl.

The shower was hot—hotter than Keith would have preferred—and made his skin prickle where the droplets landed. Even through the dense steam, Keith could see (and feel) Kolivan’s eyes roam over his naked body. A hand reached out to grab at his ass, and Keith had to hide his grimace. There was something about Kolivan that made him feel… lesser than. Like, property almost.

Even as Kolivan pounded into his ass, Keith’s mind was elsewhere. On what his next panel needed to look like, his annoyance with the soft fluffiness of the salon shampoo being washed away, all the way to the dinner he had planned with Matt and Shiro tonight. He was distracted, plain and simple, and Kolivan picked up on it as well.

“If you didn’t want to shower with me, you could have just said so,” he grumbled as he stepped out, dripping onto the bathmat.

 _I did say no_ , Keith thought, but kept it to himself as he stepped out after Kolivan, snagging one of the towels from the rack.

While they were busy drying off and getting redressed, Keith waited for Kolivan to say something about his hair, but it never came. Something panged in his heart, and Keith swallowed. It didn’t really matter. Kolivan probably noticed it, and just didn’t bother to say anything about it.

Keith’s phone buzzed from where he had left it on the bathroom sink. He waited for Kolivan to leave before walking over and picking it up. It was a text from Shiro, confirming that they were still on for tonight.

Keith texted back a quick reply, about to close his phone, when he hesitated. The messaging app was still open, and before he knew what he was doing, he typed in Lance’s name. His contact popped up, still with the ridiculous photo he had taken of him in high school. There was no message thread between them, and the blank slate waited, the typing bar blinking.

 **Keith** : hey, it’s Keith. Wondered if that coffee invitation was still open. If not, I understand.

Blunt and to the point. That was Keith. No need to dance around with false pretenses.

This would be good for him. He had spent too long dealing with what had happened, and Keith knew that he shouldn’t have reacted the way that he did, but it had hurt at the time.

Keith sighed, locking his phone. If Lance didn’t even recognize him that day in the coffee shop, who’s to say that he even remembers what happened? It was all in his head, he knew that, but he couldn’t erase the memory that came back every time he looked at those blue eyes.

It was time to move on.

He was lost in thought when his phone buzzed again, startling him. Lance. His heart began to pound, and everything around him suddenly seemed to fade away. Why was he so nervous? It was _Lance_.

 **Lance** : sure :) what time? Altea’s?

Keith texted out a quick reply, confirming the date and time. Tying up his still wet hair into a bun like Lance had shown him, he wandered out back into the kitchen, plopping down into a seat at the table and pulling out his laptop and sketch-pad. Kolivan was nowhere to be found. _Big surprise there_. Knowing him, he probably wandered off to the gym. If they weren’t doing policework, you could certainly find at least three police officers at the gym at all times. It was a fact of life.

He set to work on his latest project, firmly not thinking about the coffee meeting he had in oh, roughly three hours.

It was to catch up, and to help him move on. That’s all.

~~~

Lance was positively panicking. Out of the blue, Keith had texted him asking if he wanted to meet up. So of course, Lance had said yes. It was the perfect opportunity to come clean about what happened, ease his conscious, and move on. There was _no reason whatsoever_ to panic.

And yet, here he was.

He didn’t have any appointments after 2, and he wasn’t on walk-in duty today. Allura had given him a look (the same look that Hunk had given him the night before) and he just calmly pointed out the time that he had covered for her when she had to leave rather abruptly.

“It’s not a date,” he had said, and one of her thin eyebrows shot up. “He has a boyfriend, and this is just to meet up and talk. You know, cause we were friends and all in high school. I doubt he remembers _the incident_ , which is why this is _only to catch up_. I don’t even like him like that. I’m not even sure we can be considered friends at this point.”

“Uh huh,” Allura had replied, but she let him go home anyways.

Keith had told him three, and Lance barely managed to get through the door by 2:21. Meaning, he had a total of twenty-nine minutes to spend on looking decent.

By the time he left again, he was just barely going to make it on time. Gone was the morning sunshine, replaced by heavy gray clouds that hinted at snow. It wasn’t in the forecast, but weather around here was always unpredictable.

He hurried to the café, feeling oddly nervous. Honestly, if he didn’t manage to spill coffee on Keith’s lap, everything else would be considered a benefit. He sighed, cringing internally as he recalled the event. Lance knew he was clumsy but that, oh boy was that bad.

But now he had been presented an opportunity to make up for it. And Lance wasn’t going to disappoint. It was just coffee, it really couldn’t end that badly.

~~~

Keith waited, pretending to be occupied as he twiddled his thumbs and drew on his coffee cup with a random sharpie he had found in his bag. Transforming the spaceship logo into the bottom of someone’s shoe, Keith was lost in the design when suddenly the chair across from him scraped on the floor, startling him and causing him to drop his coffee cup onto the table. Somehow—by some miracle—it didn’t spill, just rolling on the table briefly before coming to a stop. Keith let out the breath he didn’t realize he had been holding, righting his cup.

Looking up, he was met with a pair of big blue eyes, looking just as panicked as he had felt a moment ago.

“Hey,” Keith said.

“Hey,” Lance replied, and an awkward air of silence settled between them. Keith flipped his sharpie around in his hand, and Lance pretended to look through his bag for something.

“I wasn’t going to spill it on you,” Keith said suddenly, feeling heat creep up his neck at his sudden outburst.

“I know that, mullet,” Lance replied easily, and the awkward air evaporated.

“I don’t have a mullet anymore, so you can’t call me that.”

“Psh, semantics.” And just like that, they fell back into the easy rhythm that had characterized their junior and senior years.

Their conversation flowed, covering everything from how Lance decided to change majors halfway through freshman year, to landing a high-paying job fresh out of college, to how Keith had finally accepted his dream of becoming a graphic novelist and pursuing it.

“…and I’m actually on contract right now for this one story I’m working on. If all goes well, I’ll have it out within the next year. In between now and then, I do some freelance stuff to make ends meet.”

Lance gaped at him, coffee cup long forgotten in his hand. “That’s so awesome, dude, I’m so proud of you.”

Keith flushed at the praise and murmured a quiet ‘thank you’.

Lance was silent for a moment, gaze fluttering between Keith, the window, and his hands. “Keith, there’s something I’ve been meaning to say,” he began, but Keith cut him off.

“If this is what I think it’s about, then don’t bother mentioning it. I’ve moved on. It’s been three years, and I really don’t want to dredge up those bad memories.”

Lance stared at him, face unreadable. “I just wanted to make sure that you didn’t hate me,” he said softly, and the words that had been on Keith’s tongue shriveled up and died.

“Lance…” he started but couldn’t find the words to finish his sentence.

Lance just smiled back at him. “I’ll take it from the coffee invitation that you don’t hate me then?”

Keith bit his lip, still struggling to find the words. Before today, before any of this, if you had asked Keith what he thought of Lance McClain, he would have said he was a terrible asshole that he very much hated. But now…

“I never hated you, Lance. Yeah, some shitty things happened, that’s true, but I never hated you.”

Lance’s smile softened, and there was a look that Keith refused to identify on his face. “I’m glad. I missed you as a friend.”

“I missed you too, Lance,” Keith said, and he meant it. This whole hating Lance thing had really taken so much out of him over the last two weeks, and it felt good to finally talk with him in a peaceful setting. Maybe now he would stop thinking about it all so much.

Lance’s phone buzzed, and he jumped up without warning.

“Ah, shit, I forgot I was supposed to meet Nyma about something.”

“Oh, that’s fine,” Keith said, standing up as well. “Go do your thing.”

“Thanks,” Lance said without looking up from his phone. He was nearly at the door when he paused, looking back at Keith. “We should do this again sometime.” And then he was gone, bracing the March winds.

Keith nodded at his retreating form, his throat oddly thick. This had gone over surprisingly well. He checked the time on his phone. He had another few hours until he was supposed to meet up with Matt and Shiro, and Lance had given him some ideas about where he wanted to go with his story plot.

Pulling out his laptop, he set to work once more, suddenly much more inspired.

~~~

It was Friday night once again, a week and a day after the coffee meet-up with Keith, meaning it was time for another get-together. Last time had been game night at Pidge’s house, but Lance and Hunk always hosted movie night as they had the best couch set up. With one big couch and two love seats, the couples in their group could curl up while the singles (and whatever person Lance was currently with) could curl up on the big sofa.

“Did you know that the only difference between a couch and a sofa is that a sofa is more ‘posh’ and benchlike, and a couch looks more like a bed,” Hunk said as he set out the chips on the coffee table.

Lance paused from where he was sorting through the movie selections to look over his shoulder at Hunk. “How and why do you know that?”

Hunk just shrugged. “Research.”

Lance just blinked at him before turning back to rifle through the movies that they had. “You know,” Shay said from somewhere behind him, “there are way more movies on Netflix that we can pick from.”

Lance scoffed. “Yeah, but that takes the fun out of movie roulette.”

Shay gave no reply, too busy helping Hunk set up. Lance settled on his top six movies—one from each big genre—and laid them out on the coffee table in between the Doritos and the seven-layer dip.

Shay examined his selections. “Really? _Crazy, Stupid, Love_ again?”

Lance snorted. “Uh, duh. It’s a classic. And it also hasn’t been picked for the last six times, so according to the laws of nature or whatever, tonight’s the night.”

“If you say so, Lance.” Her words ended in a giggle as Hunk scooped her up in a hug from behind.

Rolling his eyes, Lance finished setting up when there was a knock on their apartment door.

“I’ll get it,” he said, jogging over. He didn’t bother to peer through the peephole before undoing the lock and pulling open the door. On the other side, there stood Keith, with a big hulking guy behind him.

Keith gave him a small smile, while the big guy behind him gave Lance a once-over. Lance looked from the guy’s face back to Keith’s face.

“Oh!” Keith said suddenly, realization dawning on him. “Lance, this is Kolivan. Kolivan, Lance,” he said, gesturing between the pair. Kolivan gave Lance a dude nod, jerking his chin up at him. Lance gave him one back, still confused. _Oh_. Lance had a realization of his own; Kolivan was Keith’s boyfriend. He definitely remembered him being mentioned once or twice before, but Lance didn’t know that he would be here tonight.

Keith was now looking a little flustered. “I asked Pidge if it would be okay if he came, I should have asked you first though.”

“It’s fine,” Lance replied. “The more the merrier,” he said, adding a light chuckle to the end of his words.

Keith smiled at him gratefully. “Thanks,” he said, and Lance stepped back to let the pair step into the room.

Their apartment was set up in much of the same fashion of Pidge’s. They were made by the same contracting company, even if Pidge lived a five-minute drive away. There was a kitchen off to the left, with a bar counter that opened up to the living room. Down the hall to the left was the bathroom and Lance’s bedroom, and in the opposite direction was Hunk’s bedroom. It was small, but it fit the pair perfectly. With Hunk still being in school, and Lance not liking to live alone, it worked for them.

Keith was standing in the middle of the living room, leaning over the table as he looked through the movie choices.

“You know there’s only going to be time for like, one and a half movies, right?” he called to no one in particular.

“Oh, we know,” Hunk answered. “Lance likes to play this game that’s essentially Russian Roulette with movies.”

“How do you…?” Keith began, but trailed off, shaking his head. “I’ll just find out later.”

Another knock sounded, and Lance went to answer the door. This time, it was Matt and Shiro standing there, Pidge behind them, holding a large bowl of food.

“Welcome, welcome to our humble abode.”

Matt chuckled and stepped in, Shiro and Pidge right behind him. Lance peered into the bowl she was holding as she walked by. “You put brownies in a bowl?”

“Out of clean plates,” she replied, and Lance frowned. He would never understand the small girl.

Before he could shut the door, Allura appeared, tear-tracks staining her pretty face. Her features crumpled when she saw Lance, and she burst into loud sobs as she fell into his arms.

“Allura, what happened?” Alerted by the noise she was making, Hunk appeared around the corner, and Lance looked to him, waving him off. _I’ve got her_ , he said silently. Hunk nodded slowly, occupying everyone else while Lance comforted Allura.

“That mother-fucker cheated on me, that’s what,” she said through her sniffles. Lance widened his eyes at her swear. He had never heard her swear before, even when she broke her foot cliff-jumping.

“Do you want me to beat him up?”

She shook her head against his chest. “I’ve already taken care of it.” He didn’t press her for details. Truthfully, he wasn’t really sure if he wanted details. Allura was sweet for a good majority of the time, but when you wronged her… she became downright terrifying.

She sniffled again, pulling away from Lance. “I just want a fun night, that’s all. He can rot in hell for all I care.” Not waiting for a response, she walked right over to their fridge and pulled out a bottle of vodka.

“Well I guess you’re spending the night here,” he said under his breath, watching as she unscrewed the cap and took a long swig.

They both wandered into the living room, where everyone tried, and failed, not to look at Allura with pity in their eyes. Lance shook his head above her shoulder, and everyone’s attention was suddenly elsewhere.

“Ma’am, as a police officer, I sincerely hope that you did not assault him in any way,” Kolivan said, and Keith rolled his eyes.

“Oh, don’t worry, I definitely did,” Allura replied, and Lance genuinely didn’t know if she was joking or not. And apparently, neither did Kolivan, as he glanced to Keith before looking back at Allura.

“Okay!” Hunk said, firmly breaking up the focus from Allura, “it’s time to pick the movie. Keith, since you don’t know how this works, we’ll let you pick.” Keith frowned as Hunk continues. “The way it works is you stand with your eyes closed, and then six of us form a circle around you, each holding a movie. With your eyes still closed, you spin around in a circle, and when you stop, whoever you’re facing is the movie that is picked.”

Keith nodded, moving out and giving the rest of the group enough space. Hunk, Matt, Pidge, Lance, Shay, and Shiro each picked a movie, forming a loose circle around Keith. He began to spin, stumbling as he picked up speed, until finally, he stopped.

“Ah, fuck yeah!” Lance cheered as Keith opened his eyes and met his eyes. “I told you that tonight would be the night,” he said to Shay, who only shook her head with a smile.

“Crazy, stupid, love?” Keith asked, squinting at the title. “What’s so good about it?”

Lance gaped at him. “It’s only the best rom com to ever exist. Well, other than La La Land, but that falls more under the musical category.”

Keith only hummed in response, taking his place over next to Kolivan in one of the loveseats. Kolivan was wearing an odd look on his face, like he had just eaten something that he wasn’t quite sure if he liked or not.

Lance inserted the movie, and then settled back down on the sofa in his usual spot: Pidge on his left, Allura on his right. The latter was still nursing Lance’s vodka, taking smaller sips now. Her tears had dried, and now she only looked hollow. _Maybe a rom-com wasn’t the best idea. Too late now, though_.

The opening scene began, and the quiet chatter that had filled the room slowly dimmed to silence.

Comments, as per usual, were thrown around as Matt mocked the movie and Lance defended it.

“Kevin Bacon? She thinks _Kevin Bacon_ is attractive?”

“He is very attractive, thank you very much.”

“Hate to break it to you, but you’re wrong.”

This continued for much of the movie, Lance shushing everyone when one of the good parts came on.

“Lance, you think every part is good.”

“Exactly, so shut up.”

They were almost to the absolute best part of the movie—the part where everything unfolds in the backyard—when it was suddenly paused.

Lance didn’t have time to utter an objection before Kolivan was flicking the lights back on, moving to the middle of the room.

He exchanged a glance with Hunk, and the big guy lifted one shoulder. He had no idea what was going on, either.

Kolivan cleared his throat, and all attention was back on him. “Keith,” he began, and Lance suddenly knew exactly where this was going. “It’s been two years, and my time with you has been great. You’ve been with me through ups and downs and have helped me grow so much as a person. Hell, I might even come out to my police buddies for you. But what I’m trying to say is, Keith Kogane, I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” Silence echoed as Kolivan slowly got down on one knee. Lance looked over at Keith, who was watching Kolivan with wide eyes and a pale face.

“Keith, will you marry me?” All eyes turn to Keith, who said nothing. After a moment or two had passed, Kolivan prompted him again. “Keith?”

“N-no,” he finally choked out.

“No?” Kolivan asked, anger edging into his simple question.

“I can’t marry you,” Keith said, looking at the ring that Kolivan was holding. Silence. And then, Kolivan chuckled.

“You’re joking, right? Keith, what the hell is this? What do you mean, no?”

“No,” he repeated, and then turned to look at Lance. Their eyes met for barely half a second, but it felt like an eternity.

Kolivan stood up, throwing the ring he had been holding down onto the carpet. “You know what, Keith? Fuck you. I want all of your shit out of my place by Monday.”

And then he was gone, moving out of the room and slamming the door behind him.

No one spoke. No one knew what to do. Lance was looking back at Keith again, but he was staring at the spot where the ring had fallen.

“Allura, can you pass me the vodka please?” Allura passed it over without a word, as Keith reached out and hit ‘play’ on the movie once more. Lance stared at him. Keith was always adamant about being sober, given what happened all that time ago.

No more comments were made for the rest of the film.

The movie ended, and once more, Allura was sniffling, the tears having made a reappearance. She was also just a bit too drunk to drive safely.

Shay would be staying with them again tonight, and Pidge had ridden over with Matt and Shiro. That left Keith, who had come over with Kolivan, looking around the room, nursing the bottle of vodka that Allura had passed him.

“Alright, Allura, it’s time to get you home,” Lance said, standing up and holding out a hand to help her stand.

She pouted from where she sat. “I don’t wanna go,” she said, sniffling.

“Hun, you’ve gotta go home.”

“No. Too many memories of Lotor.”

Lance sighed. He understood the feeling, but he really didn’t want to deal with hungover Allura. Once in a life time had been enough.

“C’mon,” he said again in a gentler tone. “Sleeping in your own bed is what’s best for you.”

Allura watched him with sad eyes for a moment more, before reaching up and taking his hand. Hauling her to her feet, Lance made sure she was steady before turning to Hunk.

“I’m going to take her home, and then I’ll be back.”

“Matt and I can take Keith home,” Shiro pipped up, glancing at Matt for confirmation. He nodded, and Keith sunk further into his loveseat.

“’M staying,” he mumbled, the neck of the bottle resting against his mouth and pushing his upper lip up, making his words slurred.

“No, Keith, you’re not,” Matt said, and then walked over to do what Lance had done. Taking the bottle out of a protesting Keith’s hands, and then ungracefully tugged him to his feet. They were roughly the same height, but with Keith leaning on Matt, it made the blonde seem that much smaller.

The scattered group ambled to the door, with Pidge propping it open with a foot so all could pass.

After a slow elevator ride down, the six of them made their way to their respective cars. Shiro’s was small, but it would be fine to transport them all home.

Tucking Allura securely into the front seat of Lance’s car with a sharp, “don’t you dare puke in my car,” uttered, Lance went over to make sure that everyone else was situated.

Keith was slumped over in his seat, looking mournfully out the window, big purple eyes watery. Upon seeing him, he said something to Shiro, and the window rolled down.

“Call me if you need anything, okay?” Lance said softly, resting his forehead against the frame of the car. Keith nodded back at him, peering up at him, something unreadable in his tipsy expression.

“Lance, ‘m sorry,” he said, and Lance frowned.

“What are you sorry for?”

And then Keith threw up on him. It hit Lance squarely in the torso, splattering him with watery, barely digested, bright orange Dorito bits. Keith gagged a second time, and Lance hastily backed away.

“Well, that’s enough of that,” he muttered, looking down in dismay at his clothes. He was shivering; the months had rolled into April, but it was still very much freezing.

He glanced back at his own car, only to find Allura asleep in the front seat. If he hurried, he probably had enough time to run up and change before she froze to death.

Shiro yelled something out of his window as he pulled out of the apartment complex parking lot, the taillights blinding him momentarily before disappearing entirely. He stared at the spot they had been before the stench of vomit reminded him of what he needed to be doing.

Darting back into the apartment with a quick shouted explanation to Hunk, he was back out in record time, dumping his soiled clothes into the tub, taking the stairs this time.

Allura was still asleep when he got to his car, and he sighed. From the very beginning, he had a bad feeling about Lotor, but noooo, everyone thought he was just being a jealous ass because he had a thing for Allura forever ago in high school. But just because he had a crush on her once didn’t mean that it determined the rest of his relationship with her, three years later.

And there he had gone, doing exactly what Lance had always expected him to do. The guy was a fucking maniac, Lance was shocked that cheating on Allura was all that he did.

As he drove in silence (he didn’t want to wake Allura with music and risk her throwing up on him too) Lance revisited the night’s events. The look that Keith had given him as he said no to Kolivan.

Pulling up to Allura’s house, he gently woke her, and then fished the house key out of her purse. They made it to the door, and Lance disarmed the alarm as Allura spun in slow circles, drifting into the living room. “No, no, no,” Lance muttered, jogging to catch up to her before she fell over and hurt herself.

Tucking her into bed, Lance reset the alarm, and braced the April chill once more. His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he waited until he was back into his car before pulling it out.

 **Keith** : aiofhanc

 **Keith** : aspifasn aspirin

 **Keith** : i told him no. but i had to

 **Lance** : you did the right thing. it was toxic from what you said

 **Keith** : sorry for puking on you lol

 **Lance** : it’s cool, i understand, no worries

 **Keith** : you’re too good to me

Lance paused when he read the message. And then he read it again, just to make sure he was seeing things correctly.

 **Lance** : make sure you get some sleep. don’t want you saying things you don’t mean

He stared at the text for a moment before hitting ‘send’. Keith had just gotten broken up with, and he had had some heavy alcohol. He didn’t know what he was saying.

Lance was already driving back to his apartment when his phone buzzed in the cupholder. Being the responsible driver that he was, he ignored it until he was parked once more in the parking lot he had pulled out of twenty-some minutes ago. It was late, and he had an early morning appointment tomorrow (some girl’s wedding, if he’s remembering correctly) but he sat there anyways, smiling down at the text on his phone.

 **Keith** : thanks, lance. i missed you

 **Lance** : i missed you, too. now get some sleep

Lance closed his phone before any more messages could come through. There was only so much he could handle in a single night.

Walking back up to his apartment, Lance paused outside of his door, not quite ready to go in yet.

Fate had a funny way of showing her hand.

~~~

His head ached, his stomach was killing him, and he was in an unfamiliar bed. As he blinked himself awake, slowly, one-by-one, the events of last night made themselves known to him.

Lance’s weird movie game.

Kolivan’s proposal.

Keith saying no. He cringed as he recalled that part.

Drinking half a bottle of vodka.

Puking on Lance. He cringed again.

His text message conversation with Lance. What he said to Lance was still fuzzy in his head, but he distinctly remembered texting him. Looking through his message history, however, gave him nothing. Drunk Keith must have deleted the messages before Sober Keith could read them. Drunk Keith always did shit like that.

It was Saturday, and while most people had the day off, he still had the next set of panels due to his agent by Monday.

Groaning, he hoisted himself out of the unfamiliar bed and looked around the room. After a moment, he realized where he was. It was Matt’s old bedroom, and the one that Shiro had offered to him when he moved back to town. “Just until you find you own place,” he had said at the time. Even with his room here, he had spent much of his time at Kolivan’s place. Well, until now that is. Now, he needed to clear out everything that he had deposited in his ex-boyfriend’s apartment, and fast. There was a vague memory of Kolivan saying he had until Monday to clear his shit out. It was Saturday now, but Keith had quite a lot of shit over there. Including some plates he was rather keen on getting back.

Shiro was sitting at the bar in the kitchen, Matt on the other side cooking some eggs. Both looked up from their individual things when Keith walked in the room, Matt’s forehead creasing in concern and Shiro frowning with something else that Keith didn’t stop to ponder.

“I’m heading to Kolivan’s to get my stuff back,” Keith says, stifling a yawn behind his hand. He swung open the fridge door, looking for something to help with his minor hangover. He really hadn’t drunk that much, but vodka was an excellent way to forget specific annoyances. Even if it had been Lance’s vodka that he had gotten drunk off of. A memory threatened to resurface but Keith shoved it back down before the thought had truly crossed his mind.

“You might want to brush your teeth first,” Matt said, not looking at him as he spoke. “And maybe a shower, too. You puked all over Lance last night, and there’s still some on your clothing.”

Keith paused from where he was reaching for the Gatorade stashed in the back of the top shelf. Was that what their text conversation had been about?

A stab of guiltiness ricocheted through him, but just like the fleeting thought, he shoved it down.

“Do I need to apologize for that?” Keith asked, attempting to keep his voice even and neutral. Matt and Shiro exchanged a glance, but neither of them answered him. Keith took a long swig of his drink, cringing as the cool liquid hit his unsteady stomach.

He needed to face Kolivan eventually, but Matt was probably right about the shower. He was beginning to smell himself, and he really did reek like vomit.

It was a quick wash, but during that time Keith thought about what he was going to say to Kolivan if there ended up being a confrontation. He had just turned down the man’s marriage proposal—this wasn’t going to go smoothly with a simple ‘sorry’. Keith knew he could fight with him if it came to it, but he just wanted to get there and get out.

Toweling off his hair, Keith found some clean clothes and walked back out into the common area. Matt and Shiro had migrated to the couch, and Shiro was reading a book as Matt read through an article on his phone. Matt had his legs over Shiro’s lap and was curled into his side. Keith paused when he saw the sight. Never, in all of his two years with Kolivan, had this ever happened with them. Kolivan had always sat up straight and rigid, shifting away if Keith ever got too close. The only time they were ever that near each other was when Kolivan’s dick was up his ass. And when Keith began to live with Kolivan, he only ever sat in his arm chair, relegating Keith to himself on the large couch.

He stood there, a small taste of bitterness in his mouth as he viewed the domestic scene. Even the smallest bit of regret that he held for saying no last night was quickly shriveling up.

Shiro looked up at that moment to see Keith standing there. The frown from earlier made a reappearance, but Keith quietly shook his head.

“I’ll get the car,” Shiro said, and Matt didn’t look up as he took his feet off of Shiro’s lap.

“Be back soon, babe,” was his only response, too engrossed in his phone to look up. Again, that striking parallel had Keith swallowing back a mean retort.

Keith followed Shiro out to his car, crossing his arms in an attempt to block out the chilly winds. He had already begun prioritizing what he needed from Kolivan’s, in case there was a limited amount of time to pick up his things. His laptop and art things were at the top of that list. Keith made a silent wish that Kolivan had been too hammered to touch any of his things. Drink was his poison of choice, and he could certainly put it away.

It was only a short drive over, and before long, Keith was inserting his key into the lock for the very last time. He fully intended on never coming back here. There was nothing for him here, anyways.

The door swung open, and Keith waited a moment to see if Kolivan was going to call out to him or not. His car was in the parking lot, but that didn’t necessarily mean that he was going to be here. Sometimes his police buddies picked him up in the squad car, meaning that Keith had no idea what lurked in the shadows for him in this apartment.

Currently, it’s calm and quiet; no response to the sound the door made when it swung open. Keith makes his way cautiously in, checking first his bag—his laptop and drawing pad are still untouched. A small breath that he didn’t realize he had been holding gets released. Keith wasn’t really sure what he would do if Kolivan had destroyed his work.

As quickly and quietly as he could, Keith collected his things from around the apartment, shoving what he could into the two suitcases he had brought with him, scowling at the things that wouldn’t fit. Kolivan had told him that he had until Monday to pack his stuff, but Keith knew he wouldn’t be returning after today.

He was busy looking for his plates when the lock clicked, and he froze. Slowly, the knob turned, and Keith felt like he belonged in a horror movie. _Just get it over with, you dramatic oaf. You know I’m here._

Kolivan said something, low and unintelligible, and Keith strained his ears. It sounded like he was on a phone call, of all things.

He waited until Kolivan had stepped into the apartment, staring down at his phone with the door still open behind him.

Keith watched him. He didn’t look upset, didn’t look like he spent the night drinking. In fact, Kolivan had never looked better. There was that bitter taste in his mouth again.

Finally, Kolivan looked up, and right at Keith. It was a moment before he said anything. “What are you doing here?”

Keith had been prepared for anger, for harsh words and biting insults. Hell, he had even been ready for Kolivan to give him the silent treatment. But he only sounded tired, defeated.

“Packing my stuff.” The words came out quieter than he had intended, as he stood there clutching three heavy plates to his chest.

Kolivan nodded, moving into the apartment, kicking the door shut with his heel. He didn’t say anything as he disappeared into the bedroom, and Keith stuffed the plates into the top part of his suitcase, not bothering to protect them with his clothing. They didn’t seem all that important now.

He stared down at what he already had packed. Keith knew that Shiro was waiting for him whenever he was ready, but there was something that Keith couldn’t let go.

Keith wandered back to the bedroom that his ex-boyfriend had disappeared into, finding him sitting on the bed, staring out at nothing. This was the broken man that Keith had been expecting to see.

“Can you answer me one question?” Kolivan asked, in lieu of hello.

Keith nodded, even though he didn’t think Kolivan could see it.

“Why’d you say no?”

It was the question that Keith had been expecting, but the various answers he had prepared suddenly escaped him. Instead, what came out was the truth.

“You couldn’t give me what I needed. It was never right between us. I was sick of being something you were ashamed of, someone you didn’t care about. You might have cared and not have been able to show it, but I never felt it. I needed to feel it, Kolivan.” His voice broke on the last few words, and tears welled up in his eyes. They stung as he attempted to will them away, to no avail. A few slipped down his cheeks, and he looked up at the ceiling so he wouldn’t have to see anything else.

“It wasn’t him?”

This time, the question caught Keith by surprise. “What do you mean?”

He met Kolivan’s gaze, and the once readable eyes were locked tighter than a prison cell door. “I don’t know if you’re being stupid to fuck with me, or if you really don’t know.”

Keith really didn’t know, but there was something hard edging into the way that Kolivan was looking at him. But before it could go anywhere, something in him broke. Kolivan’s shoulders slumped, and his head dropped into his hands.

“I’m sorry, Keith.”

He couldn’t take this any longer. Giving Kolivan no answer, he retreated out of the bedroom as fast as shaky legs would allow him, snagged the two suitcases and the messenger bag by the door, and used his foot to shut it behind him.

He didn’t even really breathe until he had his stuff loaded into the car, not willing to let his brother see him break any more.

There were too many thoughts inside of his head, and Keith closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against the cool glass of the window. He felt, rather than saw, as the rain begins to pour. Not quite a drizzle, not quite a downpour. Sad and soft, it left streaks against the glass, tracing the tears that would never fall.

In his two years of dating Kolivan, this was the most emotion Keith ever felt.

~~~

Lance hadn’t heard from Keith since his drunken confession six nights before. Not that he was counting, or anything. It just felt weird not to hear from Keith is all.

Lance knew all about break-ups, and how hard they were on people though. He had had plenty of heartbreaks in his twenty-one years, so he knew that it took time to function again. Even when you were the one to break it off.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, and Lance had it out faster than someone could sneeze. _Nyma_. Lance pretended not to feel disappointed as he responded to her text. She was asking when they could meet up again.

It hadn’t really been anything when he texted her at first. A forgotten number in his pocket, pulled out when he was feeling lonely. He hated that he did this to himself; searching for someone’s attention even when he knew he shouldn’t be doing it. But there was only so much that Hunk and Pidge could do for him. He missed intimacy. He hadn’t truly dated anyone since high school.

She was interesting, that was for sure. They had some good conversations. They hung out occasionally, had dinner sometimes, laughed over drinks. But it still wasn’t what Lance was looking for.

He knew, he _knew_ that he shouldn’t be leading her on like this, and he had tried to cut if off plenty of times before. But every damn time, it was 3 am and he needed someone else to fill the gaps that were too large, even for just a little bit.

She was fun.

But she wasn’t what he wanted.

His phone buzzed again, and Lance didn’t pull it out to check this time. He knew it would be Nyma.

When his phone buzzed again three minutes later (too soon for her to text again, she followed those dumb girl rules), Lance reluctantly untucked his phone from his back pocket. He was currently on break, with another twenty minutes before his next appointment showed up. Mrs. Jenkins of all people, actually.

Lance looked to the ceiling before checking his messages, praying for the strength not to snap at Nyma. She meant well, he knew that, but would it hurt to just send everything in a single message?

 **Keith Kogane** (2 new messages)

Lance paused. He hadn’t been anticipating hearing from Keith. He had just broken up with his long-term boyfriend, and Lance figured he would want space for a while. Seeing Keith’s name pop up on his phone was an unexpected, but pleasant, surprise. It had only been, like, two weeks since their coffee date and tension had eased between them, but Lance was once more falling into the easy habit of being around Keith again. It was almost like high school again.

 **Keith** : coffee? i’m free after 4 if that works

 **Keith** : you can even pick the place

Lance drew in a deep breath, looking to the ceiling once more as if the grainy tiles had the answers he was searching for. Something inside of him fluttered, and he didn’t have time right now to puzzle out what that meant.

He typed out a quick response, shutting off his phone before the typing bubble could come up and give him anxiety. This time, he didn’t have to wait long. The reply was nearly immediate.

 **Keith** : sounds good

Lance pocketed his phone, checked the time on his wrist watch, and went out to meet his next appointment, a hesitant smile beginning to form on his face.

~~~

Lance spun his cup around in his hands, trying (and failing) to look nonchalant. Keith was late, and while it shouldn’t have been a big deal, it was. Keith was one of the most punctual people that Lance knew.

There was this nagging thought in the back of his head that this was all a joke, that Keith didn’t want to meet up after all. That Lance was just going to be someone to take his frustrations out on. Lance was fine with being a shoulder to cry on, to act as a comfort, but he didn’t want Keith’s verbal abuse today. The guy had an issue when it came to venting his feelings. But if that’s what Keith needed, Lance would oblige.

He groaned, dropping his head onto the table. He hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before, and truthfully, he wasn’t sure if he could handle every emotion that was going through him currently. Things just seemed to be building up to something lately, and Lance didn’t know what it was building up to. He also wasn’t really sure he wanted to find out. In fact, all Lance really wanted was a nap.

The bell to the coffee shop chimed, and Lance peeked up. Dark hair and a dark red sweater were standing there, pale skin barely showing. _I would know that mullet anywhere._

Keith saw him at that moment, and a small, barely there, smile graced his lips, disappearing just as quickly as he made his way over to Lance’s table. Lance could feel as his heart began to pick up in speed.

_¿Qué mierda?_

Sitting down across from him, Keith rubbed his palms together in an attempt to warm his hands back up. Another frost had blown in overnight, and the whole city was covered in a light dew that was just cold enough to freeze. Weather forecasters were calling for snow. In _April_. This weather was a nightmare.

But the person sitting across from him looked like a daydream. Keith’s hair was partially hidden under a knit grey cap, the barest tuft of it sticking out in the front. A maroon turtle neck covered much of him, bagging around the hands and waist. Lance couldn’t see much more, but he could imagine the tight black jeans that Keith practically lived in 24/7, and the red sneakers that he refused to get rid of.

A server came over to take Keith’s order, and he ordered just a plain black coffee. Lance wasn’t surprised.

Conversation flowed smoothly and darted from one topic to the next. Lance made sure to stay firmly away from all things ex-boyfriend related. No need to bring that up today.

At one point, Keith reached over and rested his hand on Lance’s. Lance just stared at it, afraid to move, and Keith was pulling away far too quickly. _Too soon_.

Something Keith said had him go off on a downward thought spiral. It started off as something small, but then it just became more and more in-depth, to the point where Lance got unintentionally distant from the conversation. Lance was too busy lost inside of himself that he missed what Keith had said. “Huh?” he asked a moment too late.

Keith’s mouth quirked downwards in a scowl. “I asked whether you think we’ll actually get this storm or not.”

“Oh,” Lance said. He took a moment to glance out the window. “I do think so, actually. I’ve always been pretty good at guessing the weather, and right now, my intuition tells me we’re about to be snowed in.”

“It’s April,” Keith said in exasperation. “You don’t actually think we’re going to get snow _in April_?”

Lance shrugged. “I guess we’ll see.”

Keith takes a moment to glance at the time on his phone. He curses quietly and glances out the window again. “I think I left something at your house the other night, do you mind if we swing by so I can grab it? And if it’s not too much, can I have a ride home? As much as I don’t want to say it, I think you’re right about this storm.”

Lance is slightly surprised but doesn’t show it. “Sure, any idea what you forgot?” Lance knows exactly what he forgot.

“My jacket, I think. I’ve been looking for it, and it wasn’t at Kolivan’s when I cleared it out.”

Lance nods. “Sure. We should probably get going, though, don’t want to get caught in that bad weather and all.” It takes a good amount of his self-control not to wink at the end of his statement. Their whole conversation had been littered with inuendoes, and Lance has no idea if they were intentional or not, but it’s currently the cause of his spiral into insanity. Keith always did have that effect on him; saying all of the right things and having no idea what they did to other people, all while remaining entirely oblivious.

Keith pulled a few dollars out of a coat pocket and left them on the table as a tip as Lance shrugged into his own coat. He pulled out a few dollars as well and left them on top of Keith’s money. Lance had an appreciation for baristas—he had been one, once upon a time. He knew exactly how difficult this job could be. It had begun to snow, light little flurries drifting down to land on their noses. It was bitterly cold, too cold for this time of year. The weather had been fucked up all winter long. Their first snow hadn’t even been until January, when there was usually at least a dusting in November. Lance had no idea how the people who said climate change wasn’t real survived in life. How one could be that stupid and manage to live long enough for their opinions to be heard was beyond him.

They reached Lance’s car, shaking the snow off their shoes as they climbed in. It was a quick drive over to Lance’s place, and the whole time, he tapped out an uneven rhythm on the steering wheel. Keith either didn’t notice or didn’t care, staring out at the falling snow as they drove. It was a quiet ride, but not an unpleasant kind of quiet. The kind of quiet that seemed to meld around them and fit, rather than jar them into saying something they weren’t ready to say. Lance had had far too many of those kinds of quiets.

The snow was steadily growing heavier, to the point where Lance could barely see. Luckily, they had reached Lance’s apartment, and he carefully parked the car before they both darted indoors as quickly as they could. It really didn’t matter though; both Keith and Lance were drenched by the time they reached the warmth of the apartment.

Using his heel to kick the door shut, Lance began to strip his outer layers as fast as possible. He was a Cuban through and through. None of this snow nonsense for him.

He didn’t notice that Keith had gone utterly still until he was down to just his boxers and his undershirt. Lance stopped, his sweater in his hand, pants around his ankles.

“You okay there, buddy?” he asked gently. His words seemed to jolt Keith out of his stupor, and he jerked as he met Lance’s eyes.

“Perfectly fine,” he said. Lance just nodded, not believing him for a minute. He said nothing, though, trailing back to his bedroom in search of some warm, dry clothes. Keith followed behind him, and Lance pretended not to notice once more.

He got redressed and hesitated by the doorway. After a pause, he walked out, a second set of clothes in his hand.

“Here,” he said, shoving them at Keith. “I don’t want you dripping on the carpet, and there’s no way in hell I’m driving in this storm, which means you might as well get cozy.”

Keith gave nothing away on his face, but the tips of his ears turned red, peeking out in between strands of hair. He had taken off his hat without Lance noticing at some point. Huh.

He took them wordlessly, using his thumb to gesture at the restroom, a silent question if it was okay to use. Lance nodded at him and waited until the door clicked shut to let out a soft snort. Keith could be so incredibly awkward at times. It was endearing.

Lance took another peek out of his bedroom window while Keith changed. The snow was somehow even heavier now, to the point where Lance couldn’t see much beyond a flurry of white. There was no way he was driving in this weather, and Keith’s current place was too far for him to walk. Meaning…

Lance sighed, resting his forehead against the cool glass. This was certainly not the direction that he had intended for this to go in, but the thumping in his chest told him a very different thing.

 _Fucking hell_.

Too many thoughts, too many memories and words unsaid and things that happened that no one really got over, just shoved under the rug to pretend it was okay. He had tried to bring it up to Keith. _He had tried_. But Keith didn’t want to talk about it, and Lance wasn’t going to push this matter. Even if it was something they really should talk about.

This time the downward spiral was interrupted by the sound of a door opening, and the subsequent sound of feet on the floor. Lance took a deep breath in, and backed away from the window, his forehead feeling that weird mix of warm and cold as the heat hit it once more.

Keith was standing there, in one of Lance’s oversized sweaters and sweatpants, hair falling in his face (even though Lance cut it recently specifically that it _wouldn’t_ ), staring at Lance with big violet eyes.

 _Oh no_.

There was no real warning as the thought hit him like a freight train.

 _I’m so fucked_.

Lance smiled through the onslaught in his head, leading them back out into the living room. “Might as well kill time with a movie,” he said conversationally, trying desperately to get his racing heart under control.

“Are you going to have me play that weird game to pick it this time, or can I just pick like a normal person.”

Lance frowned in fake offense. “Uh, excuse you, my methods are great. We watched _Crazy, Stupid, Love_ last time we played that, which, again, is a fantastic movie, so you can shut your trap.”

Keith gave no response, just making an unidentifiable noise. Lance settled onto the couch as Keith found the movie drawer, sorting through it. He muttered something under his breath that Lance didn’t quite catch, but he also didn’t really care enough to find out what it was. Probably just Keith complaining about how he knew none of the offered movies.

Eventually he picked something, just as Lance finally got his shit together. Keith popped the movie into the DVD player, and then walked over to join Lance on the couch. Lance scrolled through his notifications on his phone, trying very desperately not to freak out at the small distance between them.

For fuck’s sake, he felt like he was in high school all over again, panicking over the first time a girl ever came home with him. He was twenty-one; he should be over this by now.

Even still, he sent a very thinly concealed panicked text to Hunk, explaining the situation so neither he nor Shay would freak out when they came home to find Keith here. Hunk responded instantly, saying that his work had sent him home at the first sign of snow, so he would be staying at Shay’s actual place tonight. Hunk wasn’t much better than Lance when it came to driving in the snow, and he was quite content with waiting out the weather in his warm girlfriend’s apartment.

Lance felt a small stab of envy at Hunk’s easiness. When it came to examining why, exactly, he felt like that, Lance shoved it down in favor of dropping his phone in order to watch the opening credits of the movie Keith had picked.

It wasn’t one he knew right off the bat, and he glanced over at Keith to gauge his reaction. Keith was watching the screen intently, the sharpness in his jaw outlined by the soft glow from the TV. The lights had been turned off at some point, making the television the only source of illumination in the room. Lance tried not to groan at the cliché-ness of it all.

The story itself wasn’t all that interesting. A thriller that Pidge must have stuck in their movie drawer at some point, the movie had a predictable plot. Girl gets attacked by shark. Audience is on edge to see if girl will get free. Girl almost gets free—but oh wait, there’s the shark.

Lance yawned, and Keith flicked a glance over to him. “Movie that boring, huh?”

Lance shrugged. “Not really my style. You know me, I’m a romantic, I’d much rather be watching one of those. Not that this is bad!” he hastened to add when he saw Keith’s frown dip a little lower, edging on hurt.

“What’s so good about rom-coms?”

“They’re the best film genre for making out,” Lance said automatically. When he realized what he said, he clamed his jaw shut so hard that you could hear his teeth clacking all the way in France.

Keith didn’t even miss a beat. “Excuse you,” he said, mockingly taking Lance’s words from earlier, “but horror and/or thriller movies are the best to make out to.”

Lance turned to him, trying to see if Keith was actually serious or not. The current movie they were watching had been paused, the soft blue light giving a softness to Keith’s entirely serious face. “Tell me one good reason why horror movies are better for making out.”

“When all the scary parts are happening, then you’re already close and it just makes the cuddling better.”

Lance was momentarily distracted by the fact that Keith said this like he knew from experience (giving Lance another heart palpitation), before getting right back on track. “What happens when you’re making out and there’s a jump scare and you end up biting the other person’s mouth?”

Keith paused, looking back at the screen as he considered this. “I guess I hadn’t thought of that…”

It was all Lance needed to jump in with his counterpoint. “Well then clearly rom coms are the best, because there is none of that, and there’s no chance for any biting of lips.”

“Want to test that theory, McClain?”

Both boys went shock still as they each processed the implication of Keith’s words. Lance watched as Keith’s face went through a cycle of emotions, each too quick for Lance to fully decipher or put a name on, before finally landing on mortification. He was sure that his own face went through something similar.

“Forget I said that,” Keith said, his words coming out in a rush as he grabbed the remote and put the film back on. Reluctantly, Lance turned his attention back to the screen, but the plot was lost on him from that point on.

At some point, they had shifted subtly closer, to the point where Lance’s thigh brushed against Keith’s every time he shifted. And he shifted a lot. It wasn’t his fault that he couldn’t get comfy.

“Can you please stop moving?” Keith asked at one point.

“Make me,” was Lance’s instant reply. Once more that awkward air of tension settled between them, and Keith reached over for the remote. Lance was mentally preparing himself for Keith walking out of here and into the snow—all because he had taken it too far once more. But all Keith did was turn down the volume until it was low enough to just be a faint hum, the words barely distinguishable.

Keith looked to Lance, and by now they were nearly nose to nose. How that position happened, Lance didn’t know. He wasn’t moving up to leave, though, and some of the tension in Lance’s chest eased. Even as that eased his heart picked up.

There were two options here, and Lance knew which one he wanted. He also knew that it was not something he could do to Keith right now.

Reluctantly, he began to pull away, but Keith’s hand caught his jaw before he could go far.

“Lance,” Keith breathed, and something inside of him shattered.

“I can’t be your rebound,” he said weakly, refusing to look into Keith’s eyes, instead focusing on his nose. The nose that Lance nearly broke their sophomore year of high school. The nose that didn’t break, and now looked like the most fascinating thing in the world.

“You aren’t,” Keith said just as quietly. At this, Lance did manage to look into Keith’s eyes. He found nothing but sincerity there, but it wasn’t enough. Keith was searching Lance’s blue eyes as well, finding _something_ to prompt him into sharing more.

“I said no to Kolivan because I never felt anything with him. In our two years, there wasn’t anything there. There is no reason for me to rebound, when I haven’t even had my heart broken in the first place. Lance, I feel more in this moment than I felt since—” he broke off, the words catching in his throat but Lance knew where he was going. Knew the territory they were about to enter. Instead of taking it there, instead of hearing the words that would make Lance flinch and recoil, he kissed him.

He kissed Keith like his life depended on it, ignoring the way that it felt like he was breaking in two. Despite the fact that they had agreed not to talk about it, the past still existed. And it still hurt.

He kissed Keith with every feeling and emotion that he had inside of him, and Keith kissed him right back. There was an intensity, bordering on desperation, that Lance had never felt before. Keith’s mouth was a firm presence on his own, and he welcomed it by opening his mouth and letting Keith sweep his tongue in.

The hand that had been cupping his jaw went up to tangle itself in his hair, while the other one bunched in Lance’s shirt. Lance’s own hands found their way into Keith’s hair, digging in at the roots like he wanted to when he cut it. Keith moaned into his mouth, and Lance moaned right back, feeling a shudder wrack its way through his body.

 _He was so fucked_.

~~~

Even though it was Lance that kissed him first, it was Keith that was pushing Lance onto his back on the couch. It really was the perfect couch; there was enough room that Keith wasn’t really worried about either of them falling off. Unlike some couches he had been on.

He hadn’t really known that the built-up tension in his body had even been there until Lance’s mouth had met his own. There was something caving in when they met, and Keith refused to acknowledge the way that something inside of him clicked. Like this was meant to be, all along.

Keith hadn’t been lying when he said he wasn’t using Lance as a rebound. There was nothing for him to rebound from; if there had ever been anything between Keith and Kolivan, it had died a painful death a long time ago.

Someone was moaning, and Keith realized with a start that it was him. And then Lance moaned too, and it was perfectly okay.

With the movie long forgotten, Keith was perfectly content to pin Lance down onto the couch and make out with him for as long as it took for them to need air again.

At one point, the movie screen flickered, and the room went dark. Keith broke away briefly to look up. The TV had shut itself off. _Damn_. Had they really been at it for that long?

Lance took that moment as well to take a deep breath in. Keith looked back to him, a soft smile tugging at his lips. Lance’s hair was plastered to his forehead, and a rosy flush was making his tan skin glow. Lance was looking back up at him, a lazy smile to match Keith’s. Something else was in his eyes, though, and Keith felt his mood sour just a tad.

“What is it, Lance?” He asked, propping his hands up on either side of his head. He was suddenly grateful for the effort Kolivan made him put in at the gym—he didn’t want to seem weak. Or worse, that he was nervous.

Lance shook his head minutely. “How are you real?”

The words perked Keith’s mood right back up. “I am real, and I’m right here, Lance.” Lance flushed even more deeply at Keith’s words.

Keith leaned down again, so that their lips barely brushed together. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted this?” Lance breathed, hot air ghosting across Keith’s lips.

Keith didn’t have an opportunity to comment on Lance’s revelation, as Lance closed the distance between them, sweeping his tongue once more into Keith’s mouth. He was happy to oblige him, moving down onto his forearms for a closer angle.

Time passed, but Keith wouldn’t know it. It had been so long since he had felt anything like this—far too long.

He was too wrapped up in Lance to think about anyone else, to even consider anything else. If it started snowing indoors, he wouldn’t have noticed. That’s how much heat there was between the two bodies right now.

Lance was the first to break away after another significant portion of time. They were both breathing heavily, and Lance’s eyes were nearly shut.

“We’re going to need to take a break unless you want me to come in my pants,” he said faintly, deliberately keeping his eyes shut.

Keith froze. He had noticed something was firmer down there quite some time ago, but he didn’t realize it was having this much of an effect on Lance.

Hesitantly, Keith rolled his hips against Lance, who immediately let out a low moan. His face looked almost pained as Keith did it again.

“I’m serious, Keith,” he said, and Keith grinned down at him.

“I know.”

He reconnected their mouths for a brief kiss, moving his hips once more. Lance was making low keening noises, and his breaths were coming in faint gasps against Keith’s mouth.

Keith was riding pretty high himself, feeling the heat and tension begin to brew low in his gut. He was steadily getting closer when Lance’s firm hands appeared on his shoulders, pushing him up and away.

Panic fluttered in his chest, Keith rocking back onto his heels, hands held up. “What is it, Lance, what’s wrong?”

Lance looked at him, face turned down with regret and something else. “I’m just not ready yet, Keith. I promise it’s not you, it’s just been a long time since I’ve done this with anyone and I don’t feel comfortable rushing into it.”

Keith breathed out a slow breath. “Lance,” he said gently, taking one of Lance’s hands in his own. “It’s fine, I promise. I totally understand. We can take this at whatever speed you need. I’m here for you.”

Lance looked at him for a moment longer, before his face melted into relief. “Thank you, Keith,” he said softly, leaning in to rest their foreheads together. “I appreciate it.”

“Absolutely,” Keith replied, matching Lance’s tone. They breathed in each other’s air for a moment longer, Lance closing the distance once more to press a chaste kiss against Keith’s lips. Keith smiled into the kiss, something in his chest warm and full.

Lance leaned back, not too far away, but enough that he could look Keith in the eyes. It was quite honestly one of the most vulnerable states Keith has ever been in. He swallowed thickly, trying to relieve some of the emotion he felt pressing down on him.

“How about we finish the movie?”

Keith nodded, unable to form any more words. Lance glanced at the screen, and then over at the remote that was behind Keith. He leaned over, other hand brushing against Keith’s lap as he did so. Keith sucked in a tight breath, unable to help the small groan that escaped his lips.

Lance quickly grabbed the remote and retreated, looking to Keith with wide eyes. “You can go to the bathroom and take care of that,” he said easily, but he didn’t miss the way that Lance’s flush had made a reappearance.

Keith shook his head. “It’ll go away soon enough.”

Lance quirked a face like he didn’t quite believe him but didn’t say anything. He turned the TV back on, the movie having stopped at a pinnacle scene. The girl was making a dash for it from the shark, the animal right on her heels.

Pressing ‘play’, the movie started back up again, and Keith held an arm up in a silent invitation. Lance grinned at him and that warm, full feeling made a reappearance in Keith’s chest as Lance snuggled up next to him.

They watched the rest of the movie in comfortable silence, and Keith stared fondly at the mop of brown hair tucked against his chest. _Fuck_.

It had been a spur of the moment decision to ask Lance if he could get his jacket from his place, but he didn’t want their day to end. The coffee was nice and all, but it wasn’t personal.

Lance looked up right at that moment, and their eyes met. “What are you thinking about?” Lance murmured.

“You,” Keith replied.

Lance grinned up at him and they shared another sweet kiss.

Some may say that they were rushing into this, that they had only been in contact for a few weeks after three long years. But it had always been there. Even in high school, their ‘rivalry’, wasn’t really a rivalry.

It took them far too long to get here.

The movie ended (spoiler—the girl was fine), and Lance got up to peek out the window. It was dark outside now, but the snow was still falling, as heavy as ever.

“Looks like you’re staying here tonight,” Lance said, and Keith heard the fondness in his tone.

“Guess so,” he said, playing along. “What a shame. Your place is a pig sty.”

Lance turned around, fighting words on his lips, but they died when he saw Keith struggling to hold back a smile.

He murmured something in Spanish before moving back to join Keith on the couch. “Another movie?” he suggested, “or do you want to do something else?”

Keith heard the implication in Lance’s words and shifted against him until they were face-to-face once more. “I like the sound of something else.” He saw the brief flutter of worry in Lance’s eyes and amended his statement. “But only as far as you’re comfortable with.”

“I can’t be your rebound,” Lance said in response, the heartbreak clear in his words. Even if Keith had assured him earlier that he wasn’t, he knew that Lance struggled with anxiety and self-doubt.

“I promise you, Lance Charles McClain, you are not my rebound, and will never be.” Lance swallowed thickly, and a single tear spilled over.

Keith brushed it away with a thumb and leaned in to press a kiss where it had been. He continued to press kisses down Lance’s face, making a trail towards his mouth. He skipped over Lance’s mouth, though, moving to cover the other half of his face. Lance made a noise of dissent and took Keith’s face in his hands to press a kiss firmly on his mouth.

And once more, Keith lost track of time as he let Lance map him out with teeth and tongue and glorious hands.

~~~

Lance was warm all over and entirely at peace, and it was all because of Keith. Keith, who he was pretty sure loathed the very sight of him. Keith, who he thought would never speak to him again. Keith, who was here with him now, looking at him with that _look_ on his face that made Lance want to tear every inch of clothing off of him.

They could have taken that step (they very nearly took that step), but Lance didn’t want this to be a one-night thing. As much as Keith said he wasn’t a rebound, this wasn’t something he was going to risk. Keith meant too much to him for it to end like this. _Again_.

He was humming contentedly as Keith did whatever in the bathroom to get ready for bed. Lance was sleeping on the couch tonight, since Keith would be taking the bed. The hair salon had already called to tell him that all appointments for tomorrow would be canceled, as the snow was too thick for anyone to drive in. Keith had his laptop bag and all his art things, though, so at least he would be able to meet his deadline.

Keith came out of the bathroom, a toothbrush in his mouth and foam gathering at his lips and frowned when he saw Lance setting up the couch. Lance shot him a look back, as Keith retreated back into the bathroom. There was the sound of the water running and someone spitting, and then Keith reappeared in the doorway.

“You are not sleeping on the couch. I’m the guest, I should be there.”

“Uh, no, you’re the guest, therefore you get the bed.”

“Lance, c’mon now.”

“ _Keith_ , c’mon now.”

Keith crossed his arms, Lance crossing his arms right back to mock him.

“I’m not sleeping on the bed.”

“Then I’m not sleeping on the bed.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

“Then I guess we’re both sleeping on the floor.”

“I guess we are.”

“Together.”

“Fine by me.”

“Great, I’ll set up the pillows and blankets.”

~~~

Keith wasn’t quite sure how he ended up in this position, laying on the floor in a pillow fort, surrounded by warm blankets and the smell of strawberry and the sea, in a thumb war with Lance. He was pretty sure that it had something to do with how stubborn they both were, but he really wasn’t complaining (even if his back would be in the morning).

He was also pretty sure that Lance was cheating somehow, but to be quite direct, Keith’s mind was preoccupied with other things. Mainly the fact that he was in Lance’s clothing, and the smell was making him absolutely dizzy, in the best way possible.

Lance’s thumb pinned his down, and before he could fight back, Lance leaned in and captured his mouth with a kiss. “I win,” he murmured against Keith’s lips, and Keith had to stifle a laugh. _Damn, he’s hot._

There was no effort in him to fight back—especially if this was what he got to enjoy instead. Eventually, they both ended up on their backs, smiling up at the ceiling of Lance’s living room, fingers intertwined.

“Do you think we’re moving too fast?” Lance asked suddenly, voice quiet.

Keith glanced over at him. “Not at all,” he said. “Everything feels right.”

Lance nodded, still not looking at Keith. “Yeah.” A pause. “I think that’s why it scares me. Because it’s just been this short amount of time and everything just feels… right,” he finished, stealing Keith’s words.

Keith squeezed his hand once, and Lance turned his head, their eyes meeting. There were no more words inside his head, so he just settled for smiling at Lance. The Cuban boy smiled back at him, and then shifted closer until Keith’s body was curled up next to Lance.

Lance was saying something in Spanish again, and Keith closed his eyes. His voice was so smooth, a faint rumble from his words echoing in Lance’s chest and in Keith’s head where it rested. He was pretty sure that Lance was saying something to him, but between the warmth of the body next to him, and the soft sounds in his ears, Keith fell right asleep.

~~~

Lance couldn’t remember when he fell asleep, but when he woke up the next morning, it took a moment for him to figure out where he was. There was a body next to him, and the ceiling he was staring up at didn’t have any stars plastered on. His neck was a little cramped, but other than that, he was entirely comfortable.

He glanced down, careful not to disturb whomever was curled up next to him when the previous night’s events washed over him. Lance closed his eyes again as a warm feeling took hold in his chest, a smile tugging at his lips.

Opening his eyes just a crack, he checked to see if Keith was really there next to him, curled up with his head on Lance’s chest. Lance tried to keep his breathing as even as possible so as not to wake Keith. There was something so soft about his complexion, the way that his lower lip jutted just slightly, and the way that his lashes fluttered.

Lance sighed, utterly content.

“What did I do to deserve you?” he murmured, just barely a whisper.

“Pancakes,” Keith murmured back, and Lance barely restrained his surprise.

“What?” Lance asked, slightly louder this time.

“You asked what I love. I said pancakes,” Keith mumbled against Lance’s chest, and Lance’s heart calmed back down to its normal tempo.

“Hun, that’s not what I asked,” he said gently, chuckling.

“Oh,” Keith responded, and that was the end of that conversation. Keith’s breathing went back to an even rhythm, his eyes fluttering shut again. Lance smiled at the top of his dark hair before using his free hand to reach out for the phone that was positioned somewhere near his head.

He cringed when he saw the battery. 23%. _You know exactly why it’s that low_ , an inner voice said. _Shut up_ , he told it. It would be enough for him to scroll through his social media and check his texts, and by that time, hopefully Keith would be awake and Lance could plug his phone in.

There were 7 new messages to be read, and three notifications on Instagram. It was probably wiser for him to check the messages first. Didn’t want Hunk freaking out on him.

Three from Shiro, and four from Hunk. Lance momentarily frowned when he saw Shiro’s name, unsure why he would be texting him. And then Keith gave a soft snore, and Lance clued in.

 **Shiro (4:33 pm yesterday)** : hey, Keith said he was meeting up with you for coffee, haven’t heard from him in a while.

 **Shiro (5:18 pm yesterday)** : just checking in once more, is Keith still with you? the snow is getting really heavy.

 **Shiro (9:38 pm yesterday)** : you two behave yourselves ;)

Lance felt his face grow warm when he saw the last message. There was plenty he could fire back with, but he didn’t really want to confirm…whatever this was with Keith to anyone else. Not yet. Honestly, he really just wanted to keep Keith all to himself. The rest of the world could carry on without them.

Lance exhaled heavily through his nose, not having realized that he had been holding in a breath once more. The air rustled Keith’s hair, and he made a noise in his sleep.

Now to check the ones from Hunk.

As he read through them, Lance felt his face get warmer and warmer. If anyone else were here and awake right now, he was sure that he would have been compared to a strawberry. Hunk was amazingly sweet a lot of the time, but damn could he be explicit.

Lance typed out a short reply to him, not wanting to give too much away, but at the same time not wanting Hunk to get too many ideas in his head.

He heard back right away, and the conversation went back and forth for a little while before Keith stirred once more.

Shutting off his phone, Lance set it off to the side to watch Keith wake up.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Lance said softly. Keith looked towards him and blinked blearily.

“’morning,” he said groggily. They stared at each other for a full minute, neither one saying anything. Lance was the first to break the silence.

“If I don’t get up to pee right now, I’m pretty sure I’m going to pee right here.” Keith pulled a face, but obediently rolled away, giving Lance enough space to get up and make his way to the bathroom.

When he was done in there (after some freshening up as well), Lance walked back out into the kitchen. Keith was plugging in his phone charger to a wall outlet, his phone lighting up when it was connected. He hadn’t heard Lance come in, so Lance leaned against the wall to observe him.

With his hair down, the undercut wasn’t all that visible, even as the longer hair framed his head perfectly. There was a slight curve to his body, all lean muscles and toned abs. Sleep still tugged at his features as he yawned, eyes scrunching shut and lips parting wide, letting out a low noise as he did so.

Lance could stand here forever and watch Keith. He may be an artist, but the real masterpiece was right here in front of him.

Keith finally clued in to his presence, glancing over his shoulder at Lance. “Sleep well?” he asked, not commenting on the fact that Lance had been staring at him for well over five minutes.

“Yeah, surprising for me considering it was the floor.” Keith nodded in agreement.

“I thought my back was going to hurt, but it really doesn’t.”

Lance grinned. “Must have been something about the company, then.”

Keith gave him a flat stare in return. “Maybe.”

Even as Keith rummaged through Lance’s fridge and frowned when he saw the poor selection, Lance wouldn’t trade this moment for anything in the world.

~~~

Keith knew the moment that Lance walked into the kitchen, but he was content with just letting him stare. If Keith looked over at him now, with his hair mussed up from sleep and that lazy grin on his face, the barest amount of self-control that he had left would be flying out the window.

He gathered his strength until he was sure that he wouldn’t jump Lance where he stood, finally turning to him.

 _Fuck me sideways, he’s still hot_.

But the meager amount of self-control that Keith had garnered in the last few minutes held, and he stared back at Lance, trying to keep as much emotion off of his face as possible.

They made light conversation, and Keith rummaged through the fridge. The selection was minimal, but Keith wasn’t really hungry for food.

Lance came over when Keith was sorting through their canned goods, wrapping his arms around Keith’s waist. Keith stilled, surprised at the contact and begging his restraint to hold.

“Is this okay?” Lance asked, feeling Keith’s stiffness.

“Fine,” he managed to get out on a wobbly voice. Lance pressed a kiss to Keith’s neck, and oh, there went the rest of his poise. A noise escaped his mouth—something he would have been embarrassed about with anyone but Lance—and it was Lance’s turn to stiffen.

“Well then,” Lance said slowly, tone carrying something that Keith couldn’t read. He kissed Keith’s neck again and Keith made the same noise. Seemingly pleased by the results, Lance did it again. And again. And again.

Pretty soon, Keith was a squirming mess held up only by Lance’s firm arms wrapped around him.

“Fuck, those sounds do things to me,” Lance said against his neck, and Keith moaned. Lance was pressed firmly into him now, and Keith could feel exactly what his noises were doing.

“Lance, we don’t have to take that step now, I understand if you aren’t ready but—”

“I think I’m okay for something,” Lance interjected with, and Keith stilled, but from something else this time.

He turned around in Lance’s arms so that he could look him in the eye. Lance was breathing heavily, blue eyes lidded and lips parted. Keith rested his forehead against Lance’s making sure that he was looking at him.

“Don’t push yourself to do something you’re not ready for,” Keith said gently. He was fine—or he would be, after a cold shower—if Lance wasn’t ready for this. Everyone had a different comfort level to take things at.

“I’m ready,” Lance said earnestly, and Keith found the sincerity in his eyes. “Keith, I am entirely at ease with you. I might not be ready to go all the way right now,” he said, the corner of his mouth tugging downwards, “but that doesn’t mean I’m not okay for other things.”

Keith searched his face for any sign that Lance was pushing himself, forcing himself into doing something that he didn’t want to do. When he found none, Keith pressed a slow kiss to Lance’s lips.

“Stop me if you’re not okay,” Keith said, and Lance nodded.

*******

Lance kissed him again, and Keith reached his arms up to wind them around Lance’s neck. One of them ended up in Lance’s hair, and Keith dug his fingers in, pulling gently. Lance moaned, breaking the kiss, and Keith felt something hot and heavy stir low in his gut.

 _Lance was going to be the death of him_.

Lance must have felt it too, because suddenly his hips were rocking into Keith’s, and Keith broke the kiss to inhale sharply.

Lance’s hands—his amazing fucking _hands_ —were on his hips, trailing up and down his sides, one slipping down to gently squeeze his ass.

Eventually, Keith had enough of the frustration and pushed Lance towards the direction of his bedroom. Even though the snow was too thick for anyone but the snowplows to drive in, Keith didn’t want to take any chances. And, there was something about Lance that made him want to do things…properly wasn’t the right word, but it was as close as he was going to get with the blood being in a different head at the current moment.

Lance bounced on the bed from where Keith had lightly shoved him, another one of those dazzling smiles on his face and blue eyes that could set the seas to shame. Keith’s heart was pounding in his chest, and he was pretty sure it wasn’t just the desire he felt.

 _Lance was going to be the death of him_.

Keith joined him on the bed, using one hand to guide Lance until he was leaning against the one remaining pillow, the other propped up next to his head. Their mouths reconnected, and Keith situated his hips over Lance’s, grinding down in one smooth motion.

It wasn’t long before they were both lost in it, and it wasn’t long before Lance’s hands were tugging down the waistband of Keith’s borrowed pants, two of his glorious fingers hooking into his boxer-briefs and tugging those down, too.

A hand wrapped around him, and Keith broke away from Lance’s mouth, too caught up in the sensation to do much else.

Lance stroked him, his thumb glancing over the head of Keith’s cock every now and then, making Keith whine. _Fuck_. He was panting, and his eyes were screwed shut, his one arm shaking from the sheer tension in his body.

“I want to see your eyes,” Lance said as Keith neared orgasm, sounding just as afflicted as Keith felt. With effort, he opened his eyes, finding Lance’s ocean blue staring right back at him.

Keith came, painting white across Lance’s shirt and torso, never once breaking eye contact even as spots filled his vision. It is quite possibly the hardest he’s ever come.

Keith took the hand that wasn’t propping himself up, fumbling at Lance’s own waistband. He was still hard, and Keith took him in hand. Lance made a noise that wasn’t exactly human, and Keith took it as a sign to continue.

In a few short strokes, Lance was coming as well, crying out as he arched his back. Once more, the eye connection never broke, and Lance had tears streaming down his face.

Keith flopped down next to him, bliss spreading through him. Lance was panting, and Keith turned to look at him.

“Okay?” he asked, concern lacing his words.

Lance nodded. “More than okay,” he managed to get out, cracking a small smile. Both of Keith’s hands were gross, otherwise he would have leaned over and swiped away Lance’s tears. Lance saw him studying him, and his eyes crinkled as his smile widened.

“Sometimes tears just leak out when,” he gestured between them, “happens. It’s not anything you did—well, that’s not true, since you did me—what I’m trying to say is you didn’t do anything wrong.” Lance’s words came out in a jumbled mess, and Keith just grinned sappily back at him.

*******

“You’re amazing,” he said simply.

Their eyes met once more, and Keith felt that he could lay here forever and never get sick of the view.

~~~

Lance stared into the violet abyss that he was finding himself tumbling headfirst into, the boy on the other side smiling back at him.

He was exhausted in the best kind of way, sleep tugging at his limbs. But the sticky situation was more pressing. Lance was unfortunately reminded of it when he shifted his hips and the coldness of it made an unpleasant reappearance.

“I’m gonna grab a quick shower,” Lance said, starting to stand up. “And yes,” he said, glancing over his shoulder at Keith still on the bed, “that was an invitation.”

~~~

The snow made it so that they weren’t able to leave Lance’s apartment for a good few days, but honestly, neither of them were complaining. Lance didn’t have a good amount of food in the fridge (or the pantry for that matter), but his neighbors were more than willing to share. Lance promised to pay them back with Hunk’s gourmet cooking when the snow melted.

They passed the days with movies, games, and, well… _other_ things. They reconnected and recounted all of the time they lost over the past three years, sharing stories of encounters gone wrong, and jobs gone right.

It felt like there hadn’t been any time apart for them. Keith and Lance fell back into the easy rhythm they once had, laughing at each other’s stupidity. Their ‘rivalry’ even came out in certain aspects.

They were just like they had been before, and neither boy could be happier.

So of course, life had other plans.

~~~

Other than Shiro and Hunk, Pidge was the first to figure it out. Once Pidge knew, everyone else knew just as quickly.

It wasn’t that they were trying to hide it or anything, but they just wanted to avoid the judgement that was sure to come their way. Hunk was quite happy about the whole ordeal, as was Shay. Shiro had some resignations towards it (“Keith, you just got out of a two-year relationship, don’t you think this is a little quick?”), as did Matt (“Don’t let this turn out like last time.”). But for the most part, everyone was on board with it. Lance was pretty sure he even heard Pidge mutter about damn time under her breath at some point, but when prompted, all she gave him was an innocent smile.

She scared him sometimes.

Lance had reached out to Nyma a few days ago to officially cut things off but hadn’t heard from her. He frowned as he checked his messages once more to see if she had finally given him a response. Nothing.

He probably should have been more worried about it, but honestly, his head was in another space. Lance knew Keith and Keith only. And Keith was all he needed.

It was nearing the end of April now, and the weather was finally warming up. There was no more snow for the next month, and the flowers had decided to bloom. Which meant the weather was finally nice enough to go on an actual date with Keith, that wasn’t just coffee.

Keith had been stressed for days over his final submission to his agent, to the point where he had holed up in Shiro’s apartment until he finished his set. Lance left him to his own projects, knowing that a disturbed Keith was akin to a hibernating bear woken a month too early.

Lance let him work as he went through his day by day, cutting hair and making people fall in love with their appearances all over again. Mrs. Jenkins even paid him a visit.

She was humming a baseless tune under her breath as Lance applied the color treatment. She trailed off, though, and Lance was too concentrated on the task at hand to notice immediately.

“Things must be going well with Nyma,” she said airily, and Lance glanced up to meet her eyes in the mirror. She was smiling, but there was something sharp and knowing to her grin.

“Oh, well—uh—actually,” Lance stammered, feeling his face begin to warm. “I actually ended things with her. We just didn’t work,” he said, stumbling over his words as her face slowly sank.

“ _Oh_ ,” she said after a lengthy pause. Lance turned back to her hair so that he didn’t have to look at her. He wasn’t sure why, but her approval actually meant something to him. “To each their own,” she said, and the tense air only grew thicker.

Lance sent Allura a pleading glance over his shoulder at one point, but she only grimaced and shrugged. Nothing she could do.

He finished with her hair treatment and sent her to sit under one of the heating ducts for it to apply.

“Well that was weirdly awkward,” he groaned, slumping down onto the counter as Allura patted his back sympathetically.

“She just wanted things to work out between you two, that’s all,” she said. “She cares a great deal about Nyma evidently, so it’s understandable.”

Lance nodded, still face down on the counter. The timer dinged, and Lance straightened. “Guess I better go finish this before we get another snow. Hell could freeze over from the frost I’m getting from her.”

Allura let out a short laugh, cutting it off by slapping a hand across her mouth when several customers turned to stare. Lance bit back his own laugh and left her with a small wave.

Mrs. Jenkins was decidedly indifferent towards him, making light and casual conversation with Lance, not going anywhere near the topic of his relationship status. He was glad, even though something felt off between them.

He waved her goodbye, putting the odd conversation out of his mind.

~~~

Keith breathed a sigh of relief as his final draft went through to his agent. It had taken him months of hard work, and a huge risk to even pursue this path in the first place, but his final draft was in. In seven months, it would be out for sale everywhere.

There was a momentary panic in his core when he thought of other people actually reading it. People would see his work, associate it with his name, and judge him. Keith wasn’t really sure that he was mentally prepared for that.

But he had seven months to get ready. Tonight, he was finally going out with Lance. Lance had something special planned in celebration of Keith meeting his deadline. Keith was ready for the mental break. It had been so stressful these past few weeks, all he needed was a fun time out with his…

 _No_.

Keith wasn’t really sure what Lance was to him, but he didn’t think of Lance as his b-word yet. Maybe… maybe after tonight, though, that would be official.

They never had any conversation about what to define their relationship as, and Keith didn’t want to assume anything. You already know how the saying goes.

Keith leaned back in his chair, gazing at the ceiling, lost in thought. Lance—amazingly—had managed to keep their date mainly a secret. All Keith knew was that it had something to do with space and whatnot. _A star among his own,_ Keith thought fondly.

He checked the time on his watch. Twenty-eight minutes until Lance was coming to pick him up. That meant there was enough time for him to get dressed, and then sit around anxiously like it was his first date in high school all over again.

He dressed in an oversized hoodie, paired with skinny jeans. He then thought twice about the hoodie, swapping it for a thick sweater. It may be warmer in the day time, but Keith still froze his ass off at night. Something about being from Texas made him miss the dry, constant heat.

Sitting on the couch, he pretended that he wasn’t twiddling his thumbs, checking the door every other minute, followed by his phone for the time.

Shiro wandered in, carrying a bowl of leftover cereal milk, and startled when he saw Keith sitting on the couch. The milk splashed up, making an arc for Shiro’s face, but he stepped back, and somehow managed to catch every drop back into the bowl.

Keith stared, dumbfounded. “Where in the hell did you learn to do that?”

Shiro blinked, staring at his bowl. “I didn’t,” he said slowly, apparently just as perplexed as Keith as to where his sudden skills came from.

They both stared at the bowl, as if it had somehow managed to move itself, before Shiro shook his head, moving around the corner and into the kitchen.

He peeked at Keith through the open bar. “Nervous?” he asked.

Keith shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “It’s just Lance.”

Shiro harrumphed, his bowl clattering as he set it in the sink. “Things are going well, then?”

“Well enough,” Keith said, and suddenly his throat felt thick. “He’s amazing and I’ve known him for like, forever, but I’m just so worried that I’m about to mess something up? Like, it’s been so good for this whole time, you know, once we got past the whole animosity deal, and I just can’t help but feel like this bliss won’t last forever.” His words came out in a rush, and he verbally stumbled over himself, wringing his hands as his fear came to light.

Shiro nodded as he spoke and waited for Keith to finish before coming over to join him on the couch. “There’s no such thing as perfect,” Shiro started, and Keith frowned. That was a terrible way to start a pep talk. Shiro saw his face and smiled knowingly. “Yeah, that’s probably pretty close to the same face I pulled when Krolia told me that, right after Matt and I started dating the first time. But there is no such thing as ‘perfect’, Keith. Because it’s physically impossible, and you’re only setting yourself up for heartbreak if you continue to think with that mindset.

“What you have to do is remind yourself that this isn’t a sprint. If you’re really serious about Lance—” Shiro paused while he searched his face. Keith nodded meekly. “—then you have to know that this is going to be a marathon. You have to learn and grow with each other, and you thinking everything is ‘perfect’ isn’t going to help. It only sets you up for disappointment. So instead of thinking everything is perfect, think about how it’s like a pineapple.”

“A pineapple?”

“A pineapple. See, pineapples are hard and prickly on the outside, but once you open them, it’s tons and tons of fresh, yellow, gooey, yummy fruit. So, you eat the fruit, and damn is that the best thing you’ve ever tasted. But after a while, it starts to hurt, and you stop eating it, wondering why it hurts. Well, it hurts because there’s an enzyme that actually eats you as you eat it, but that’s not the point. My point is, that it hurts, even as good as it is. Pineapple isn’t perfect. Relationships aren’t perfect. It’s all about balance.”

Keith nodded, wondering how he got from relationship to pineapple, even if it did make sense. There wasn’t time for a reply before a knock sounded on the door, and Keith’s heart jumped up to kiss the clouds.

 _I have no reason to be nervous_ , he thought. _It’s Lance. Sweet, adorable, kind, funny, Lance. Oh no._

He moved on numb legs to get up and open the door. Lance smiled brightly at him from the other side, his ocean blue eyes lighting up like a kid on Christmas.

“Ready?” he asked softly, holding out a hand. Keith took it, praying his own hands weren’t clammy, and moved to shut the door behind him.

“Be home by midnight! Or don’t be home! But be safe!” Shiro called, Keith rolling his eyes. The door cut off the rest of what his brother was saying, but it sounded vaguely like the name of a yellow fruit.

“Did Shiro just yell out pineapple?” Lance questioned as they walked down the hallway, hand in hand.

“Nope,” Keith responded quickly, ignoring the quizzical look that Lance was aiming at him. “Let’s get this date on, shall we?”

~~~

Lance programmed the address into his phone, hooking it up to the Bluetooth with his free hand. When that was all set, he pulled slowly out of the parking lot. Keith tried to peek at his phone, but Lance swatted him away.

“It’s a surprise, no peeking.” Keith pouted, and Lance fought a grin as he stared down the road.

It was only a short drive away, and Lance hummed along to the radio. Keith was silent, and Lance could feel eyes on him.

“What?” he asked when the song had ended, feeling slightly self-conscious.

“I want to hear you sing one day,” Keith said simply but fondly. Lance felt his cheeks heat up.

“Okay,” he replied, struggling to keep his attention where it needed to be.

They arrived at the place a few minutes later. The parking lot was surprisingly full, and it took him a few minutes to find a spot. He was suddenly very glad Hunk had talked him into making reservations.

Keith craned his head backwards, looking at the neon sign above the door. “Voltron Space Exploration? What’s this?”

“You’ll see,” Lance said cryptically. He took Keith’s hand in his own, ignoring the way his stomach flipped over, and began to lead them inside.

There was a line out the door, and Keith glanced at him, wondering what the hell he had planned as he led them past it, through another door marked “reservations”.

“Put some planning into this, huh?” Keith said quietly, more of a statement than a question and Lance shrugged.

“Only the best for you.” Lance didn’t miss the way the tips of Keith’s ears grew red, or the squeeze he gave Lance’s hand.

They followed a narrow hallway through the building, Lance not slowing even as they passed constellation maps on the walls. Keith looked at them as they walked, taking in what he could.

Lance was pretty sure that Keith was beginning to suspect what they were doing here, but that didn’t mean he had any idea of what the big surprise was.

The hallway began to widen, opening up into a cavernous room, lined with plush seats. Lance heard Keith’s sharp intake of breath as he looked up.

A large, round ceiling was covered in an image of a galaxy, stretching all the way around the room and bleeding down the walls. The image shifted, and a new galaxy appeared, all blues and violets, with dashes of sharp red. A scattering of stars was in the image as well, bright white little dots that seemed to pale in comparison with the colors behind them. It shifted once more into a nebula, and Keith was staring, wide-eyed up at it.

But Lance wasn’t watching the ceiling. He was watching the boy next to him, the pure amazement and wonder written all over his features. Lance felt his heart squeeze as Keith’s parted mouth tugged into the beginnings of a smile. _I’m in so deep_ , he thought. His heart squeezed again, and he ignored the single word that was on the tip of his tongue.

People were beginning to crowd in behind them, and Lance regained Keith’s attention. “We better get to our seats. The show begins soon.”

Keith nodded, still awestruck, and let Lance guide him over to their chairs. They sunk down into the plush seats, made with built in headrests. Keith was looking at Lance now and had just opened his mouth to say something when something crashed nearby.

Both boys turned their heads to look for the commotion and didn’t see anything immediately. The growing crowd was quickly parting, though, and Lance felt a sinking feeling in his gut when he heard a rather distinct voice.

Out popped Nyma from the crowd, with red eyes and hands balled into fists, shaking. She was staring right at Lance, and he could feel Keith staring at him as well.

Oh no.

“How dare you cheat on me, Lance McClain.” Keith went still beside him. “We had something special, and you go and throw it all away with him,” she said, pointing an accusing finger at Keith.

“Nyma, what—”

“You don’t speak,” she growled at him. “You lost that right when you told other people that we were over, all so you could sneak around with that ass. I thought that I meant something to you, and now I clearly see that I don’t.” Tears were streaming down her face now, and Keith had dropped Lance’s hand. He felt cold, and everything in him was shaking. _No, this was all wrong, what was she doing_. His head was a jumbled mess as he tried to make sense of what was happening. Panic fluttered like a trapped bird in his core.

She tore a necklace off her neck that Lance didn’t remember giving her, and said, “You even took him to our spot. Fuck you,” before storming out. The gathered crowd had fallen silent in the beginning of her outburst, and she strode easily through the gap they made for her. One woman muttered something under her breath, shaking her head and glaring at Lance.

 _Keith_. Lance turned to the boy next to him, only to find that Keith had gone utterly still and pale. “Keith—” he tried, but Keith just met his gaze with empty and hollow eyes.

“Don’t,” he said, low and harsh. Lance couldn’t move as Keith stood up, pushing past him and following the wake that Nyma had made. He wanted to follow him, to explain what had happened and that Nyma had it all wrong, that this wasn’t right, but just like three years ago, he couldn’t move. He could only watch as the love of his life walked out once again.

~~~

_It was prom night, senior year. They had all been looking forward to this night for weeks, and some of the excitement had even managed to rub off onto Keith. He was going with Rolo, his boyfriend. It was the first time that Keith was really going to a public event with him, and it was a big step for both of them. Rolo was fairly popular in their school, and Keith was the shy nobody who flew below the radar, even though he was making top marks. This night meant something to them._

_Up until the day of, when they had gotten into another one of their petty fights. Keith was pretty sure he was feeling —love was too strong of a word, like was too weak—something for Rolo, even through all of their bickering. This time, it was about how committed Keith was to him._

_“I just don’t feel comfortable with how close you are to him. I’m not really intimated by other guys, but Lance just makes me nervous. You two seem more than friends at times,” Rolo had said, staring hard at Keith with his arms crossed over his chest._

_Keith snorted. “Lance? Please. He’s a nuisance at best. We’re, I don’t know, rivals I guess.”_

_“You guys hang out all the time,” Rolo countered. “Tell me how that’s a rivalry.”_

_“We’re in the same friend group,” Keith said, even though he knew what Rolo meant. Yeah, they weren’t really rivals, and he was good friends with Lance, but it didn’t mean anything. He was with Rolo for a reason. He even told Rolo as much._

_Rolo just shook his head. “Yeah, whatever,” he said, and that had been the end of that. Even though it didn’t really feel like a fight, things were off between the two of them for the rest of the day. Prom itself had been pretty fun, but every time he was around Rolo, his mood had soured._

_Now they were at a party, and Keith was sipping shitty beer from a cheap red cup as a group of party goers played beer pong. Rolo had disappeared to the bathroom some time ago, but that had been at least 15 minutes, and no one takes that long to pee._

_Keith wandered off in search of him, wobbling slightly on his feet. He had only had a half a cup of beer, there was no way he was tipsy already. He needed to stop now—he was the designated driver for tonight._

_He was getting weird stares as he made his way down the crowded hallway. One girl was even looking at him with—was that pity? He shook his head. Maybe she felt bad for the Kuron’s parents—their house was fucking trashed—and she had just spilled beer on the floor._

_Whatever. It didn’t matter to him._

_“Hey, have you seen Rolo?” he asked a random girl when he had searched for him in all the possible locations. She pointed wordlessly to the bedroom door at the far end of the hall, giving him that same look the other girl had given him. He frowned but thanked her anyways and walked in the direction she pointed._

_He knocked once on the door, calling out Rolo’s name, but got no response. He looked briefly upwards, muttered a small hope that he wasn’t about to barge open in on some couple having sex, and opened the door. What he found was so much worse._

_Rolo, pressed up against Lance McClain, with his tongue in Lance’s mouth. At the sound of the door creaking open, Rolo glanced over his shoulder and started when he saw Keith. But then his surprise melted into a wicked grin, something malicious in his eyes._

_“Now who’s the fucking cheater, asshole?” he asked, but Keith was too shocked to do anything. Lance was glancing between the pair, struggling from where Rolo had Lance’s hands pinned above his head on the wall. Lance had panic in his eyes, but Keith didn’t care. All he saw was his boyfriend cheating on his with his best friend. No. Ex best friend. The same former best friend that had commented on how hot he thought Rolo was, how lucky Keith was. Who had seen their whole relationship through bitter eyes._

_Keith turned on his heel and fled. He ignored the voices calling out after him, all he could do was run. There was too much and at the same time not enough and he couldn’t think he couldn’t breathe he couldn’t—_

_Keith burst out of the house, stopping in the street when he could no longer hear the sounds of the party. With shaking hands, he dialed Matt’s number._

_“Matt, I need you to come pick me up.”_

_His voice sounded like he just woke up. “Keith? What’s wrong? What happened?”_

_“I can tell you in the car, but I need you to come pick me up.” His voice was shaking now; tears streamed down his face. He broke down in sobs as Matt agreed to come pick him up. Keith relayed his location and then hung up, sitting down on the curb and tucking his knees to his chest. There was no way he was getting the deposit back on the suit now._

_A line of police cars passed him, all flashing lights and loud sirens, but none stopped where he was. They just continued down the street in the direction that he had come. Keith assumed that the party had gotten busted, and his spirits felt slightly lighter at the thought that he had escaped that ordeal._

_He had stopped crying by the time that Matt arrived. He got into the front seat wordlessly, and Matt didn’t press him for details as to why he had been called out at 2 am to pick Keith up on a random street. Keith quietly told him the few details he could manage without breaking into tears again, and Matt took his hand in his own._

_Matt didn’t offer any words of condolences; he knew they wouldn’t do anything for Keith. Instead, they drove back to Matt’s place in near silence. Keith’s phone continued to buzz, coming in with notifications he didn’t bother to read. Eventually, he just turned his phone off._

_This was all Lance’s fault. He always had to have what Keith had, including his boyfriend. None of this would have happened if Lance hadn’t been the ass that he was. Keith would still be with Rolo, and Lance… Lance would be whatever the hell he was. Keith didn’t care anymore. Lance fucking knew how much he hated cheaters. It was what had driven his mom away in the first place._

_He swiped at the tears that had begun to fall, making a silent vow to himself. He would never put anyone in that situation as long as he could help it. That, and he was never talking to Lance McClain ever again._

~~~

Keith was heaving in air as he looked around the parking lot. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t think, he couldn’t move.

When Nyma had come in there screaming at Lance, all he could think about was three years ago, and all that had had happened in the aftermath. What those cop cars meant. Restarting his life elsewhere. Why he refused to drink.

Keith was shaking as he pulled out his phone. He barely managed to hit Matt’s contact, nearly dropping the device as it began to ring.

“Matt? I need you to come pick me up.”

Matt asked no question as Keith gave him his location, saying he would be there soon. Shiro would ask too many questions, but Matt knew exactly what he needed right now. Matt had been there for him then, he was there for him now.

Keith paced the parking lot, shivering in his sweater as he waited for Matt. He didn’t look for Lance. He didn’t want to know if he even came after him.

 _I want him to come after me_ , said a tiny voice inside his head. Keith wanted to take that thought and stomp it into the ground until it no longer existed. He had sworn to himself that this was never going to happen again, and it did. With Lance fucking McClain.

Something felt like it was breaking inside of him, and Keith dropped into a squat, sobbing. This was never supposed to happen. He should have never let Lance back into his life. Everything was crashing down around him, and Keith couldn’t take it. He wanted to hit something, but at the same time, couldn’t move from where he was.

_I never should have said yes. I never should have fallen in love with him all over again._

What hurt so much about that night three years ago that it wasn’t Rolo who Keith was most upset about. It was Lance. Lance, who he had sworn was only his rival. Lance, who had been there for him when Rolo wasn’t ready to come out of the closet for Keith. Lance, who had looked at them with those ocean blue eyes and captured his heart.

He had been in love with Lance, and he had fucked everything up.

Matt arrived at that moment, beeping his horn to get Keith’s attention. Keith hiccupped, looking up. Matt had swung the door open and was watching him with pain etched into his face.

“Let’s go home,” he said, and Keith stood up, making his way to Matt’s car, trying to compose himself. Matt hugged him when he got in, and Keith cried silent tears into his shoulder.

“This was never supposed to happen,” he said, words muffled by the fabric of Matt’s shirt.

“I know,” Matt said, rubbing slow circles into Keith’s back. “I know.”

Keith nodded, and pulled away from him. Matt restarted the car, and they were off, leaving whatever Keith had once felt for Lance to die in the cold parking lot.

~~~

Lance could only stare in horror as Keith climbed into Matt’s car. He had come out looking for him, ready to beg for a chance to explain, but he was too late. _It’s not what you think!_ He wanted to scream it from the rooftops. _Keith, I promise I didn’t do this to you again!_

Something shattered inside of him as he stood stone still, watching the taillights vanish from view. When they blinked out of existence, a small sob escaped his lips. There was too much inside of him, too many unspoken words and unfulfilled promises.

He should have told him the truth in the very beginning. That what he saw at the party wasn’t what actually happened.

But he was selfish. He thought they could get past it, and he wanted it so much that he ignored his gut instinct, ignored the truth. And now the truth was threatening to tear them apart all over again.

Lance let out a choked noise. No, it wasn’t threatening to tear them apart. It already did.

He didn’t realize he was on his knees until a cold wetness began to soak through his jeans. He had inadvertently kneeled in a puddle, and it was quickly staining his pants. _Go fucking figure_.

There was no way he was going to get a third chance with Keith. He ignored his feelings in high school, and he had ignored the truth now. He was all out of luck.

Everything felt like it was caving in, like someone had taken out his heart and his ribs and his lungs and left him there on the ground, hunched over and struggling to breathe. Lance had made plenty of mistakes, but he never knew heartbreak hurt this much.

He was never going to get another chance.

Lance was never going to get to tell Keith that he loved him.

~~~

Lance wasn’t really sure how he ended up back at home, but here he was, standing in his doorway and staring at his bed with a growing feeling of horror and regret.

It was still unmade from this morning, when Keith had woken up here, pressing a soft kiss to Lance’s mouth before climbing out of bed, clad in only his boxers, and brought coffee back to Lance. They had talked quietly for a few minutes before Keith had sighed, telling Lance that he had to go home in order to finish his work. If he stayed here, he would be far too distracted.

The fresh memories washed over Lance in a wave he was unprepared for, sucking him under and sending him tumbling head over heels in the harsh surf. It truly felt like he was inhaling salt water, from the way he was unable to breathe, unable to focus or think or _feel._

One of Keith’s shirts was still on his bed, and Lance walked over gingerly, feeling the tears spill down his face. He didn’t reach up to clear them away, instead letting them fall, slipping and sliding until his shirt was soaked with pain.

Everything smelled like Keith. His bed, his clothes, everything. Lance buried his nose in the scent, knowing that this may be the last time he got close enough to breathe him in. Keith was pine, and something cool, with the barest hint of tulip. Lance had mocked him for smelling so flowery, but damn did he secretly love it.

Lance collapsed onto his bed, his whole body shaking with the force of his sobs now and waited for the morning to tell him that this was all a dream, that he would wake up next to Keith, and that none of this happened.

Morning came, and none of it was a dream.

~~~

“Keith, you can’t live on a diet of ice cream.”

“Fucking try me, bitch.”

Shiro sighed, looking up as if the ceiling could provide him some support. “You’re lactose intolerant for fuck’s sake.”

As if agreeing with Shiro’s point, Keith’s stomach growled. In response, he shoveled another spoonful of chocolate-chip cookie dough into his mouth. Shiro sighed again, shaking his head, and left Keith to his misery.

It was day three since he had walked out on Lance. Keith only left his bedroom when he felt like he was about to get sick from the crying, the ice cream, or a terrible combination of both. Shiro had tried to talk to him, to convince him to reach out to Lance to either officially end things, or to work things out, and Keith’s response had been to throw a spoon at him each time. Matt, on the other hand, sat and listened patiently as Keith ranted about everything that was wrong with Lance McClain. The blond offered commentary every now and then, but for the most part simply listened.

Keith felt like he was stuck in the past. Every time he tried to move forward, something or someone reminded him of what happened.

On the one hand, Keith knew that he had overreacted at the party, but he had just had his first heartbreak and everything hurt. He was young, and yeah, maybe looking back on it, it didn’t seem as bad, but when it happened, it was rough.

On the other hand, Keith felt entirely justified for the way he reacted. But there was no way he could have known what was going to happen afterwards.

He closed his eyes as another wave of guilt and pain washed over him.

 _No_. He wasn’t going to wallow anymore. He was going to show Lance that he never needed him, and how much better his life was without him.

Just then his phone rang. Keith’s heart gave a lurch as he imagined that it was Lance calling him. Upon turning it over, though, it turned out to be Keith’s agent. He picked up the call and listened to what he had to say.

His stomach sank with every passing minute that he was on the phone. He should have been overjoyed at the news, but all he felt was despair.

His latest project had just been approved. The project that followed a team of six Earth teenagers and their quest to save the universe with a giant robot. The project that follows the love story between Keegan and Liam. Or, the love story that Keith based on him and Lance.

“Fuck,” he muttered, drawing out the word and leaning his head against the headboard of his bed. His phone lay next to him, blank screen taunting him. He had blocked Lance’s number, but not on any social media. A small part of him was bitter that Lance hadn’t tried to reach out to him.

His past clung to him like a shadow, and no matter how hard he tried, he could never outrun it.

~~~

The doorbell rang, and Lance reluctantly picked his head up from the couch. He was still slightly hungover—enough that the room spun briefly when he stood up. Making his way over to the door, he prayed that he didn’t look nearly as shitty as he felt. He was sure that he did, though.

He didn’t bother to check through the peephole before swinging open the door, immediately regretting it when he saw who was there.

Nyma stood in front of him, red rimmed eyes and blonde hair draped over her shoulders. He moved to close the door on her, but she stuck out a hand and caught it just before he did.

“Lance, can we talk?”

“I don’t know, are you going to accuse me of assault and battery this time, or have I been lucky enough to be granted the charge of running your dog over, since all you can do is make false accusations.”

She sniffled once, and Lance felt a small pang of guilt over his harsh words. But she had played a rather violent hand in this game, too.

“I’m sorry,” she said, and Lance pulled the door open a little bit more. “I didn’t know you were actually dating him. You tried to end things with me, and I didn’t want that, so I ignored you. Even though I should have responded, or at least acknowledged it.” She sniffled again, and Lance saw her wipe her eyes with the heel of her palm. “I know that you were just using me as a distraction when you couldn’t have who you really wanted. I should be mad at you, but I was doing the same thing. And when he rejected me as well, I—” she hiccupped, a few more tears falling. “I just wanted to make someone hurt in the way that I did. I didn’t mean to do this to you, Lance.”

Emotion was clogging his throat, making it so that he couldn’t speak. He had a flashback to the time someone said nearly these exact same words to him, under nearly the same circumstances.

“Do you believe in fate?” he asked. Nyma looked surprised at his words. Lance was surprised, too. It wasn’t at all what he was going to say.

“Yeah,” she said finally, looking at him curiously. “But I don’t believe that fate controls everything. Sometimes, we have to do things ourselves.”

Something flared in Lance’s chest, something he was too afraid to name. “What about second chances? What about those and fate?”

Nyma pondered his words for a moment. “I think that it never hurts to try.” Her expression softened. “If you love someone, I think that fate has a reason for everything that happens. Sometimes you need to break a bone twice in order for it to heal correctly.”

Lance nodded, the same feeling flaring up once more in him. He had to try. No one could ever say that Lance didn’t try to make things right.

“Do you think he’ll give me a second chance?”

Nyma didn’t hesitate to answer this time. “Lance, I saw how much he loved you, how heartbroken he was when I came in. I think he’d give you a million chances if it meant staying with you.”

That was all that Lance needed to hear. He began to shut the door on her once more, but her words stopped him. “Are we okay?”

Lance opened the door enough that she could see his face. He gave her a wry smile and said, “No, not really. But for whatever reason, fate sent you to me that night, and this time the bone may have been broken enough for it to finally heal properly.”

They stared at each other a minute more before Nyma nodded at him, and Lance nodded back. She departed, and Lance shut the door fully. Leaning against it, he took a deep breath in, steeling himself for what he was about to do.

~~~

Keith had finally migrated out of his room and into the living room, sitting on the couch with Matt while Shiro cooked in the kitchen. He was still hugging his ice cream container while Matt channel surfed. Shiro was trying to convince him to eat some regular food, but so far, Keith had resisted. He was watching whatever Matt had landed on when Shiro suddenly came around the corner and over to Keith.

“Since you refuse to leave the apartment by your own volition, I’m forcing you out.” Keith began to protest, but Shiro held up a hand, silencing him. “I just got a package delivered, and I need you to go down and pick it up. It’s out in front of the building, and it’s raining, so I don’t want it to get soaked.”

Keith scowled. “Why can’t Matt do it?”

“Because I’m asking you to do it.” Shiro was currently playing the role of dad, and Keith wasn’t thrilled with him.

They stared each other down before Keith finally conceded with a huff. “What’d you order anyways?” he asked as he stood up, joints cracking painfully as he did so. He’d managed to fall out of shape in his three-day ice cream fest. It was going to be hell going to the gym next Monday.

Shiro checked his phone. “Apparently my new blender is in.”

Keith cocked an eyebrow and glanced back at Matt, who just shrugged. Shiro wasn’t a big chef.

“Can you please just go grab it?” Shiro asked, exasperated, when Keith stalled in the bathroom.

“I’m brushing my teeth!” he said in reply, around a mouthful of toothpaste. Spitting, Keith straightened, checking his reflection once before shutting off the bathroom light and walking out. He looked like shit, but he wasn’t about to run into anyone important. At most, he might see Mindy, but she was as blind as she was old.

The door shut behind him, and Keith took a big breath in. It did feel good to leave the apartment, even if he was just in the hallway. It didn’t smell like _him_ out here.

He considered using the elevator, but then began trudging down the stairs. The exercise would be good for him.

His thighs ached as he entered into the lobby of their apartment building, and his lungs burned. Living on the 7th floor really bit them in the ass sometimes.

Keith didn’t immediately see the package Shiro was referring to, so he rounded the corner and peered through the glass. He continued to scan for it, reluctant to go out into the rain until he knew where it was. Shiro always called him a kitten because of this, but Keith really just fucking hated the rain. He had no good memories associated with it.

 _You’ve got good memories associated with snow_ , said the voice inside his head. _Shut up_ , he told it.

Ah, there was the package. Keith pushed open one of the doors, very adamantly _not_ thinking about Lance and his pretty blue eyes, and how he always loved the rain because it was as close as he could get to the sound of the ocean that reminded him so much of home.

Keith swore at himself, annoyed at falling down that rabbit hole so easily. No matter where he tried to turn, there was Lance, invading all of his thoughts and making his heart squeeze.

Keith rounded the corner and ran smack into a body.

He rebounded, stumbling back a step, an apology already on his lips, when he looked up and met the most stunning pair of ocean blue eyes.

“Hey,” Lance said softly, and Keith felt his heart stop. Lance’s brown hair was plastered to his head, soaked from the rain, his smile hesitant. Keith’s immediate reaction was to smile back at him before his brain took over once more. _He hurt you. You have every right to be mad_.

“Go away, Lance,” Keith said, hating the way his voice broke. He tried to shoulder past him, but Lance stepped into his path.

“Give me five minutes, please just hear me out.”

“There’s nothing you can say that will change my mind.”

“Not even the truth?” There was a challenge in Lance’s voice, laced with desperation that made Keith paused. Everything in him was warring. Here was Lance, the very boy he was trying desperately to get over, looking at him like _that_ and everything in Keith was screaming to get closer even as his brain said no, no, no—

“No, Lance.” Keith felt like crying again. This was all too much. He should have said yes, but he couldn’t take the pain again. It was easier this way. This way, Keith wouldn’t risk getting hurt again.

This time, Lance let Keith step around him to go and get Shiro’s package. Everything in him trembled, hurting at the proximity. He couldn’t take it, he couldn’t take the pain. Keith choked back a sob as he stepped around Lance again, carrying Shiro’s package.

He was almost at the door when Lance’s words stopped him. “Rolo almost raped me.” His words almost got lost in the rain, spoken so softly as if Lance was admitting it to himself for the first time. Keith was frozen, holding the package with one hand on the doorknob back into the building. One step, and he would leave Lance out in the rain forever. But he couldn’t do it.

“That night, at the after-prom party. I had been with Hunk, but he came up to me, saying he wanted to talk about you. I figured something was wrong, so I agreed, and he led me back to the bedroom where you found us. We were talking at first, but not about what I thought. He kept saying how he was sick of seeing you look at me, how he needed to teach you a lesson. Rolo told me how he didn’t think you loved him. Rolo thought you were in love with me.” Keith’s breath caught in his chest. His hand fell from the door.

“We heard your voice right outside the door. Rolo pinned me against the wall, shoved his tongue in my mouth right as you walked in the door. He wanted to do much more to me, but you interrupted his plans.

“The look on your face when you walked in said it all. You weren’t looking at him like he wanted you to. It confirmed exactly what he wanted to know. That you weren’t in love with him at all. He shoved his hand down my pants, determined to finish the payback, but you had his attention. That was as far as it went. Then he went after you.”

Keith knew what came next. He had mistakenly thought that those cop cars that whizzed by him that night were headed towards the party. Not quite.

Rolo had gone after him, but he was drunk, and unfit to drive. An accident happened, and Rolo fell into a coma. Keith always blamed himself, since he was the designated driver. Rolo is the reason Keith refuses to drink, for the most part.

But by the time he heard about this, Keith was in Canada, living with his mom and trying to put himself back together. No one ever told him what happened after that.

Lance wasn’t finished though. His voice was much closer now, but Keith was too scared to turn around. “Rolo woke up, and he had no idea what happened to him. Someone told him you were gone, but he didn’t care. All he cared about was that he succeeded.”

Lance was directly behind him now; Keith could see him in the glass. His face was streaked with tear tracks, mingling with the rain that had begun to pour even harder. “You never gave me a chance to explain,” Lance said, voice cracking in time with Keith’s own heart. “You never gave me a chance to tell you that I was in love with you the whole time.”

There were too many emotions for Keith to handle, to put a name on. Everything Lance was telling him hit home like a nail in a coffin, and Keith felt more broken than when his dad died and he got thrown into the foster system, before he ever found Shiro. How could he have been so stupid?

Keith couldn’t say anything, trying to figure out how to put himself back together enough to form coherent sentences. Lance took his silence as rejection and began to walk away.

 _No. He wouldn’t lose him again_.

“You always want to go in the direction you plan on in life,” Keith said, voice raw. “That’s why falling for you has been so hard. Because you’re a freefall.”

He didn’t know if Lance was still behind him or not when he took a shaky breath in and dropped the package to his feet, turning around.

Blue met violet, and unspoken and spoken words suddenly didn’t matter anymore.

“Keith—” Lance started.

“Shut up,” Keith ground out, striding over to him. Lance met him in the middle, and then Keith’s mouth hit Lance’s, all teeth and pain and sorrow and everything else that can only be conveyed through touch.

Lance kissed him back as Keith melted into him, burying his hands in Lance’s hair. His hair was plastered to his head, they were both soaked and cold, but Keith wouldn’t trade this moment for anything in the world.

He finally had a good memory in the rain.

~~~

**A year and a half later**

“It’s your turn, Keith,” Pidge said, handing him the dice. It was game night once more, and Keith reluctantly leaned forward out of Lance’s warm heat to collect the offered dice from Pidge. Tossing them, and then moving his piece, he snuggled back into Lance’s side, who then pressed a kiss to the top of his head.

“You’re going to need a haircut soon,” Lance murmured against his head, tugging at his hair gently. Keith resisted the urge to groan. Fuck, he loved it when Lance did that.

“Hey, keep it in your pants,” Matt called, frowning at the happy couple. Shiro chuckled, winding his good arm around Matt’s waist.

“Oh please, they said the same thing to us a year ago, lay off them.”

Keith stuck his tongue out at Matt, and then titled his head to plant a kiss against Lance’s mouth. Lance smiled into the kiss, and happiness flared in Keith’s chest.

After their confessions in the rain, it had taken some time for them to learn to trust each other again, and for Keith to overcome some of his own guilt surrounding the situation. Little by little, they grew back together, and Keith finally learned how to let go of his past. Your past makes you, but your mistakes do not define you.

Once the game was over (Pidge won, of course), Keith stood up, clearing his throat. All eyes turned to him, and a flash of anxiety overtook him. Lance reached out, squeezing his hand and giving him the smile that always calmed Keith down.

He could do this.

“Someone once told me that love is like a pineapple.” Shiro huffed from behind him, muttering something that sounded vaguely like ‘that is not what I actually said.’ “It didn’t make a lot of sense at the time, but then I found the sweetest, most caring boy anyone could ask for. And I realized, yeah, the metaphor still didn’t make a lot of sense, but I didn’t care. Because I was hopelessly, irrevocably in love with him.” Lance’s eyes were brimming with tears, but he showed no signs of understanding. Keith could do this.

“And while love may not be a pineapple, that’s okay, because I still found the person I want to spend the rest of my life with.” Gasps echoed all around as Keith sank to one knee, pulling out the ring box he had been carrying around for weeks. Lance was gaping at him, looking back from the ring to Keith’s face.

“Lance McClain, will you marry me?”

Lance was silent, and for a moment, Keith had a horrible flashback to when Kolivan was proposing to him.

But then Lance was nodding, face buried in his hands, and his ‘yes’ was barely understandable.

“Yes?” Keith questioned.

Lance brought his hands away from his face and laughed. “Of course it’s a yes, you absolute dumbass.”

Keith laughed as well, slipping the ring onto Lance’s outstretched finger, with Lance sweeping him up into a bear hug.

If you had told him that day in the coffee shop that this would be him, he would have called you an idiot. Even the best fortunetellers couldn’t have predicted it.

But Keith would gladly take a coffee to the lap if it meant waking up every day next to the love of his life.

**Author's Note:**

> I really can't seem to write anything that isn't split perspective or an AU, so I really love that you all stick around with me for this, and thank you so much for giving my writing a try. It means more than I can ever express. It's also been a hot minute since I've uploaded something this long (butttt luckily for you 'and they were roommates' fans, longer works have yet to be updated ;)). I'm almost at a loss for words right now, so from the bottom of my heart, thank you thank you thank you. I truly hoped you enjoyed this, and thank you so much for taking a chance on it.  
> If there are any spelling/grammar mistakes, please let me know! (editing really isn't my strong suit).  
> Come yell at me about anything and everything @@  
> tumblr: blondeslytherin  
> insta: blondeslytherine  
> (seriously. Please pester me for not updating certain fics, or if you have prompts you want to see written, come shout at me for them!)


End file.
